When the Thunder Calls for Me
by jacquelyn.oh
Summary: Deserted by his wife and hunted by Maria, Peter finds Bella, alone in exile and waiting for attack. Peter/Bella AU. Rated M for violence & sex.
1. Chapter 1

**When the Thunder Calls for Me**

Deserted by his wife and hunted by Maria, Peter finds Bella, alone in exile and waiting for attack. Peter/Bella AU. Rated M for violence.

_Disclaimer_: _No infringement intended; no money made. These are not my characters. Everything belongs to Stephenie Meyer_

1.

Peter

The first time he caught her scent, she'd been surrounded the afternoon crowd of people hurrying down the sidewalk, a miserable crowd in the New Mexico humidity. Peter had slipped into an alcove of leading to a locked door, staying close to the shadows as he cataloged the people in the crowd – suit-and-tie lawyerly types, blue-collar industrial workers with lunch boxes and thermoses in hand, middle-aged career women, the deadbeat criminals.

Breathing in slowly, tasting all the flavors of society walking past him, he sought the dirtiest, the ones who gave off a bitter, choking smell of hate and death. Usually any of the sickly junkies or violent criminals, really, would suffice.

He smelled her before he focused in on her face. She was a pretty little thing, with plump lips, dark eyes, and curly brown hair – and _damn_, her body – she smelled of sweat, candied apples, and something else… As her eyes met his, his entire body tensed – but then she blushed, and a second later he tasted her desire on the air.

He practically heard her body heating up for him, and he smiled, proud of her reaction to him, letting his eyes trail her ass as she fought her way through the crowd, her face still blushing.

She rounded the corner and was gone, seeming to take the bright sun with her. Peter growled softly to himself, stopping himself from following her. He wasn't used to this conflict – holding himself back wasn't one of his strong points, and it had been a long time since he'd seen a woman quite so striking. Hell, he hadn't even bedded a woman since Charlotte had left him 6 years ago, the bitch.

But now, this little brunette with the courage to stare down a red-eyed vampire had him all hot and bothered, lustful in more than one way.

Such a delicious-looking woman – one he knew for a fact belonged to him - didn't deserve to suffer at his cruel and bloody hands. His breath came shakily as he closed his eyes, leaned back against the cold stone of the wall behind him and ignored the blaring city sounds around him. Peter fought against the urge to follow her, touch her warm face, speak to her.

_Good lord_, he though. _That woman…_ And he heard static in his head as his gift kicked in, reaffirming his gut reaction - this woman was something, all right.

Peter decided that for mean time, he might actually make an honest attempt to restrain himself from hunting her – whether for her body, blood, or just for _her, _as a woman. He sighed loudly, then turned on his heel away from the fading sun and began his hunt anew, heading for the back alleys frequented mostly by drug dealers and the homeless.

...

Bella

...

The first time I saw him I'd been walking down a bright sidewalk in sweltering Roswell, pushed along by the afternoon crowd. My eyes followed the movements of my feet as my mind chanted, song-like, "I'm feeling hot, hot, hot…" and tried to ignore the noises of the city around me, yearning for when I could finally get home and sit relax on my couch under the ceiling fan with a cigarette and a cold beer.

In the middle of July, the humid height of summer, I relished the wet heat, so different from the places I'd lived before. The cold wetness of Forks, the dry heat of Arizona – New Mexico was entirely unlike the places I'd fled from.

Ahead of me, a hazy, bright street opened, and I looked up to a wink of light – under the mist of humidity, a light like a diamond's reflection – my eyes followed the sparkle light a bird. My memory gave me a nudge. I'd seen a sparkle like that before… my stomach lifted, flipped. In a doorway next to the street, in a pocket of shadow, my eyes caught a tall, rough-skinned man leaning casually against the door frame.

As I stared, and stepped absentmindedly along with the crowd toward the street, another beam of light reflected off a passing car and struck his jaw before leaving him back to the shadows.

I saw a tiny sparkling rainbow in the humid air, thrown from the vampire's strong jaw. A _vampire's_ sparkle. In the momentary brightness, his tanned face looked toward me, and damn, was he handsome, with his tanned skin and curly, dark brown hair. I smiled involuntarily, and he nodded to me with a grin as I passed.

A jolt of heat burned between my legs, and his intense focus felt sexual instead of threatening. I was suddenly very aware of my surroundings: the oppressive heat as I passed idling cars emitting exhaust at a stop light, the sweat trickling down the overheated skin on my back toward the waistband of my shorts, the slight breeze sweeping across my chest and collar bones exposed by my low v-neck shirt – I was hyper aware of my body in that moment, and my heart pounded with a mixture of exhilaration, arousal, and fear.

Then with a shock, I realized I was looking into deep red eyes… Yet, as I looked away, I regretted the lost connection. From a distance I'd stupidly assumed I'd been seeing a dark topaz, like the Cullens' eyes had been. For a brief moment, I felt exposed and very alone in the crush of humans moving along the street as the vampire stared back at me.

Dazed, I almost stumbled as I came to the next street and had to push to the right, through the crowd, and follow that street to my apartment above the coffee shop. "Mother of god," I cursed anxiously, pulling my over-filled book bag over my shoulder.

Once I was a block closer to my house and farther away from the man's red eyes, and I realized that for the first time in 3 years, I'd seen a vampire and hadn't fallen to whiny little pieces. And I'd felt pretty cheerful about it, at the time.

I wondered who he was… and what why he would have been watching me. Even though I'd filled out quite a bit in my body and had settled into my own relaxed style, I knew I would never be the typical "pretty girl." But still, he'd been staring… my blood was apparently still my most attractive quality to vampires. Goddamn.

But what could he have been doing in such a sunny place as New Mexico? Why _had_ he been watching me? Was he out looking for his next victim?

As I hurried down the less-busy street toward my apartment, past a coffee shop, a dance studio, a liquor store… my wind mind stayed back behind the corner with the sexy (and apparently murderous vampire), and I contemplated his red eyes.

I imagined him cornering a woman, trapping her against a wall, pressing his body into hers. He'd touch his mouth to her neck – and I stopped that thought right there_. I can't fantasize about a murderer_, I reminded myself, then I remembered the intensity of his stare as I walked away from him. Then I knew - O_h my god, he was going to kill me._

Great. I'd caught the attention of another vampire. Why couldn't I just blend into a crowd?

_Maybe cause you stared him down like a sweaty teenage admirer_, I scolded myself.

I huffed my way up to the entrance to the stairway leading to my apartment, a small door in an alcove to the side of the entrance to the used book store on the first floor. I yanked my key out of the lock, entered the stuffy hallway and leaped up the flight of stairs to the landing. To the left was my door, and to the right, my dopey neighbors' door. It creaked open as I stomped on the landing, and my neighbor Sasha stuck her head out.

"Bella!" Giggling, she struggled to continue, and I rolled my eyes… "Come get high with us!" She stage-whispered.

I sighed and tried not to laugh at her. "No thanks, Sasha," I said loudly, eschewing her attempt at being inconspicuous. She never stopped trying to get me to repeat the weeks I'd passed trashed at her house when I'd first moved into the apartment next door, angry and tense, feeling like I would explode with the desolation and rage that came with my realization that Edward really _wasn't_ coming back and that Jake no longer wanted her anywhere near him.

Sasha was 24, a couple of years older than me, and was beginning to get that rough, fatigued and cracked-out look that told everyone just how long she'd been using drugs. Partying, as she always put it.

When I'd first arrived in the city, I'd spent a couple weeks out of my mind drunk over at Sasha's apartment, distracting myself with beer, liquor, and men of the unwashed, lazy type. I'd felt like a woman then, at 18, independent enough to make mistakes and without Edward to scold me about impropriety.

One night I was drunk enough to give in to one of the guys over there – a tall, blond stoner from New Zealand – and the guilty hangover that followed the next day taught me that introverted self-destruction was much safer.

I didn't feel like socializing with Sasha and the random burnt-out, grabby-handed guys she always had over. I had moved on from the loud, partying trashed-out-of-my-mind method of treating emotional problems, and traded it in for my more comforting introversion.

That red-eyed, brown curly-haired vampire had really thrown me… and I grabbed a glass of water, choked it down, and entered my bedroom. I flopped down on the slightly damp comforter, heavy with humidity, and let out a deep breath.

Finally at home, I could relax and try to make sense of the past half an hour.

I closed my eyes and saw again the vampire's smiling ruby-red eyes. Focusing on him, I let heat well up between my thighs and spread up into my stomach, my lungs, and up into my throat.


	2. Chapter 2

2.

Bella

...

I finally ended that night hours later when the coffee shop and bar I worked at closed for the night at eleven. Having spent the entire night tense and jumpy at the thought of vampires possibly being nearby, I was exhausted as I walked quickly down the sidewalk toward my apartment several blocks away. I knew it wasn't the safest thing in the world – the group of men in Port Angeles from whom Edward had saved me taught me that – but in the back of my head I knew that if a vampire wanted to kill me, there wasn't a damn thing I could do to stop it.

Such were my gloomy thoughts that night; I was so unaware of my surroundings I didn't notice the two figures in front of me until they were _right there _next to a light pole on the side of the street. I froze, my mouth half open and my back ramrod straight.

Vampires. _Second time in one day… this is shaping up to be a pretty shitty Tuesday night_.

I didn't know what to do, so I stupidly said, "Uh… hi?"

Neither vampire answered, but as I looked at their faces more closely, I could see their jaws and chests vibrating with growls. My breathing quickened and my heartbeat dangerously sped up.

I needed to get out of there. Now. I stepped back with one foot, foolishly hoping to make a break for it – the two vampires leaned forward, mad looks in their eyes. I realized they must be newborns – Edward had once explained to me that newborns were vicious, uncontrolled creatures, just like what stood leering at me in the semi-darkness of the city street.

But before I could even move, the taller, more disturbed-looking vampire on the right lunged at me, knocking me to the ground. The next second, I heard loud growl morphing into a deep-voiced shout; at the same time, the newborn's incisors pierced my neck briefly before he was ripped entirely off me.

I blinked stupidly up at the night sky and shakily pressed my left hand to my neck, pressing against the stinging, bleeding scratches. A different vampire reached down, grabbed me by my upper arms and hauled me upright.

It was the red-eyed vampire I'd seen on the street earlier! He stood looking fierce in the dim light, wearing faded jeans and a well-worn flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up his forearms.

Dizzy and too shocked to speak, I said nothing but stare. The vampire looked me over, head to toe, till his eyes landed on my neck. When he raised his eyes to mine, I gasped and everything seemed to pulse around me – I had the strangest feeling, like my instincts were all whispering to me, "oh yes, now _this_ is right."

He looked as confused as I felt, before he quickly bent toward my neck. "Oh my God, no," I cried, not really wanting to die now that the moment had apparently come - but then I felt him softly lick up the side of my neck, along my cuts. I shivered in pleasure and raised my hands to rest flat on his chest. The sensation of his wet tongue on my skin caused wetness to gather between my legs.

The vampire pulled back, looked me straight in the eye, grinned widely, and said, "Your neck's healed. You're welcome. Now RUN."

He shoved my shoulders backward, then turned his back on me face the other two newborns he'd interrupted.

"Hey, wait!" I yelled, stumbled slightly and hesitated, still shocked at what the hell was going on and also not wanting to leave him.

Then the other newborn launched himself at my protector. I gave in to my human instincts and booked it the hell out of there.

...

After I'd made it home, running the entire way, I had locked all my doors and windows, took several deep breaths, then shed my work clothes and tugged on more comfortable clothes. I rushed through my kitchen, grabbing my emergency supplies, before hunching myself up into a ball on my couch.

I had a can of beer, a bottle of Xanax, and a small joint sitting on the table in front of me, and music filtered into the room sat from the stereo in my bedroom. I had sat anxiously for 10 minutes, wondering who would come for me next. As the adrenaline wore off my body began to shake from the fear, I drank half of the beer and popped two Xanax.

I lightly touched the new scar on my neck, tracing the jagged, curved line with the tips of my fingers. The skin was slightly raised and especially sensitive; I closed my eyes and imagined the vampire's hands clutching at her arms, his tongue on my neck… and his rakish grin as he told me to run. His red eyes mirthful when they should have been menacing.

I didn't even know his name... but what if I never got to find out? He did get attacked because of me, presumably trying to save my life.

A loud series of knocks sounded from the door, and I shot to my feet in barely seconds. Slightly dizzy, though, from the combination of drugs and sleepiness – from behind its haze, my mind told me, _you should probably be afraid right now, Bella._ Instead, I was just kind of tired.

"Go away," I yelled.

"Come on darlin', just open the door!" A man's scratchy voice called back – his tone sounded familiar. My heart jumped into my throat.

I yanked open the door to find the vampire from the street. My mouth dropped open in a smile, which he returned, his red eyes looking surprisingly beautiful once again.

I couldn't help myself. "Who the hell are you?" My voice came out all breathy instead of threatening like I'd intended.

He let out a gravelly laugh, looking down with his hands jammed into his jean pockets. "Well, my name's Peter. Are you going to let me in or not?"

I knew I shouldn't getting friendly with a creature that probably planned to kill me, but my insides were dancing at the thought of him coming into my home.

I intentionally turned my back on him – to show him I wasn't afraid - and drifted back to my chair, feeling slightly awkward and exposed in just my skimpy shorts and shirt. He entered, closing the door behind him, then dropped down onto the couch across from my chair, stretching his long, jean-clad legs out in front of him.

His intent stare threw me off – I felt like I was missing something. Like there was something that I should know… and I really didn't like that.

"You can calm down, you know," he smiled at me, leaning forward and rubbing his hands together like he was excited about something.

"I'll be anxious if I damn well please, _Peter_. How did you find out where I lived? Why are you here?" _Are you going to kill me? _I wanted to ask, but then I'd rather not know that ahead of time. I'd probably thought more about death today than I had in my entire life…

Pursing his lips and raising his dark eyebrows, he looked surprised at my attitude, though I really had no idea where it was coming from. Apparently I'd really lost my meager social skills in the couple years.

"I followed your scent, of course. You smell pretty damn strong of wildflowers, and you only ran a couple hundred feet."

"So why did you save me?" I didn't understand why he would have saved me earlier if he was just going to come back to eat me later.

"What, did you think I'd let you die for no good reason? You're too damn pretty for that."

I blushed, and had to look away. "You don't know who I am, do you?" I hoped he said no – I didn't want him to be tainted by association with the Cullens.

"Why, should I? Does this have somethin' to do with the bite mark on your wrist?" He asked in a low voice with a southern twang… setting off a spark of warmth in my belly.

I pulled my sleeves down over my wrists nervously. "That's nothing. I used to know some vampires is all, but I don't anymore. Don't care for them much at all, really," I tried to sound dismissive and instead sounded bitter.

A few moments of quiet passed, and the only noises in the room came from my still-open window. "If you're going to kill me just get it over with. I'd rather not be played with beforehand." I said quietly, looking down at my hands in my lap, not sure what to make of my fuzzy feelings for the killer sitting before me, somehow looking right at home on my puffy blue couch.

When he didn't say anything, I looked back up at him. He sat staring at me, a sad look in his eyes.

He sighed. "Look – I don't even know your name – "

I interrupted, clearing my throat, "Bella – my name's Bella."

"Bella. I just came here on account of I thought you should know – I killed those vampires who attacked you. You're welcome for savin' your life."

Before I could say anything but his name, he was out the door, leaving nothing but the faint scent of summer rain and sandalwood in his wake.

I didn't know whether to be relieved that the vampire – no, Peter - had left, scared about the other vampire coming back for me, or to follow my gut, which wanted to be sad and empty because I wanted Peter back.

...

The next night I sat at my small dining room table on a ratty but comfortable wing chair, curled up next to the window. Through the second-floor window open next to my chair, I smelled spicy food mixed with exhaust, and the noises of the city comforted me. I dozed, leaning back into my chair with my feet propped up, thinking of my situation.

With so many people around, I never felt truly alone… but I knew that if Peter or that other vampire came after me that my mostly oblivious neighbors wouldn't deter either of them from bursting in on me and taking whatever it was they wanted.

I hadn't seen a vampire in almost three years – since Victoria had raised an army against me to take revenge for James' death - until yesterday. And honestly, I had to a certain extent expected to run into more vampires more times throughout my life. With my track record – the Cullens, James, Laurent, Victoria, Jake and his Quileute werewolves, and all of Victoria's newborns – I really tended to attract the supernatural.

I liked to think I'd left my feelings for the Edward I used to know behind me when I'd left Forks. Edward had abandoned me and his entirely family had blindly followed his lead – after they'd all just days earlier had the balls to tell me I was already part of the family. I'd suspected for a while that maybe Edward had lied to me in order to protect me… but that was just the one last way he controlled my life – influencing my decisions, molding me into his idea of the perfect quiet, acquiescent and submissive girlfriend.

In my opinion, the Cullen family was a pack of liars and manipulators, including my supposed ex-best friend, Alice. Always wanting to dress and make me up as the girl she wanted me to look like, the kind of girl Edward deserved. I'd done whatever she and Edward had told me to, naïve and lovesick as I had been.

It was my fault, really; I'd shown no personality of my own basically the entire time Edward and I had dated. No wonder he'd gotten sick of me. Even if he had left me for my own good, to save my from the dangers of his kind, the fact that he'd never come back for me proved he really had moved on and forgotten me.

But what if the newborns from the street were two of Victoria's old recruits?

This time, I really was on my own – no Cullens and no werewolves to protect me. Just one sexy-as-hell vampire who may or may not kill me himself. I was _fucked_.

I knew I should be scared, or angry, or at least _something_ at the thought of Victoria's remaining recruits coming back for me. And I really should be more alarmed about catching the eye of another human-drinking nomad, instead of continuously replaying the memory of him clutching me to his body and sensually flattening his tongue on my neck and dragging it up along my bloody cuts.

To be honest, I couldn't quite get up the mental strength to freak out about it… I felt so tired. Maybe my on and off drinking and weed smoking had something to do with it, but I was so damn sick of the anxiety and fear of living as a human in a vampire's world.

Of course, I'd fought long and hard to make it this far – my strength (as well as my strong flight reflex) led me to a new city and away from those I'd once loved. As Shakespeare would say, I'd been basically banished from Washington.

I remembered my last day in Forks those three years ago…

_The wolves – all 14 of them – had fought Victoria and her group of 8 or 9 newborns. The pack had just barely won; they'd managed to rip apart Victoria and the majority of her newborns before the remaining vampires had fled. Having been thrown hard down to the ground under some bushes by one of the Quilieute wolves and hitting her head on a large tree root jutting out of the ground when the vampires had first struck, I had only begun to come to as the fight ground to a finish and the wolves ripped at the vampires' arms, necks, and legs, separating flesh from flesh. _

_I still couldn't forget what I'd seen then: one of the younger pack members, Seth, lying on the ground with a bloody chunk missing from his neck, with equally bloody and bruised pack members Jared and Paul crouching unsteadily neck to him. Looking at Seth's pained brown eyes, I remembered just how terribly young all of them were – Seth and Embry still just 16, Paul and Sam only a year or two older. And Jacob, my most fierce protector, was still only a child at 15._

_Jacob, as soon as he'd seen me, had grabbed me roughly by the upper arm and dragged me back through the forest toward his nearby home. _

_Huge raindrops fell from a hazy, overcast sky and splattered on the ground. The air was so humid I felt like Jacob and I were fully under water in a stiflingly warm ocean. But when I walked up to the rickety front porch and Jake finally lifted his eyes to meet mine, I saw that Jake's black eyes were angry, an emotion that didn't match my own mixture of guilt and relief at Victoria's attack and subsequent departure. _

_Now, Jacob needed to protect his own people. "Bella, you know she'll come back for you if you stay here. You're the worst kind of bait!" _

_My jaw dropped; I hadn't expected this from him! We were safe! For the time being, at least. "Forks is my home, Jacob," I cried, offended, "Where the hell else am I supposed to go?"_

"_You can't stay here, Bella. I need to protect my people. The Tribe. You're too much of a danger to us, and you need to leave us the fuck alone!" Jake was yelling by then, clenching his hands into fists. He shuddered, then gained control again. "If you don't leave, the vampires will keep coming back to Fork and back at us until there's no one left standing in front of you. You know it. Protecting you is like a death sentence. We can't do this anymore. We shouldn't have to – you're not even one of us."_

"_Wh-what?" Tears blurred my vision, and my relief at Victoria's departure was long gone. I felt nauseated with Jake's betrayal and at the thought of being once again helpless in a violent world. I stared at Jake's frowning face; his eyes were angry and his breaths were short and choppy. _

_All I could say to him before stumbling back to my car by the road was a forceful whisper, "I can't even believe you." _

_I stalked across the overgrown lawn in front of the Blacks' house and threw myself into my truck, my soaked jeans and t-shirt sticking unpleasantly to the seats. With shaking hands, I jammed her key into the ignition, started up the beast, and took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to push the anger away. I'd be goddamned if I fell apart all over again. First Edward threw me to the side after he got tired of me, and then Jake, my supposed best friend, turned his back on me._

_I was beginning to realize that no matter what, I was the only one on my side. _

_As I drove out of Forks later that night after leaving a note for Charlie, with my checkbook, a box of Kleenex, and all the belongings that could fit into my truck, the only plan my fatigued, static-filled brain could come up with was to head toward the south, toward the sun, where vampires wouldn't venture. For once, I would follow my instincts. I had nothing else to rely on – no one else at all, really. _

_The warm summer night stretched out along the road ahead of me, and I almost felt a wisp of relief… as if my instincts were pulling me away from Forks, to the next step. _

_Three days later, I coasted into some random town and pulled into the first dive bar I saw on the side of the road._

I sat in my kitchen, staring out the window toward the few neon signs for stores and bars along the dark, rain-slicked street. I took another sip of my beer, and re-focused, almost hoping to see my red-eyed vampire skulking between the buildings across the street – as creepy as that would have been.

"Wait," I breathed, as I saw a dark shape dart across the sidewalk. I half-stood, leaning my hands on the sill to get a closer look.

It was gone. In the building below me, I felt and heard the downstairs door open roughly. I gasped, my heart suddenly pounding, and I stood, frozen, facing the door in the dim yellow streetlight filtering in from the window.

I knew then that someone was coming for me, and my frenzied brain wondered distractedly if I should go turn off the music so it wouldn't bother the neighbors when I was gone. Dead on my kitchen floor, most likely.

As anxiety began to creep into me, I felt overwhelmingly hot, as if heat was emanating from the floor, and I strained to listen for anything moving outside of the door.

With a crash, the wooden door splintered and burst inward. I shrank backward, my thighs touching the table behind me. A small Mexican woman – no, _vampire_ – stood in the doorway, hands on her hips and a sick smirk on her face.

"Hello, pet," she sneered, and I wanted to puke on her.

Without breaking my stare, she burst forward and grabbed me, one hand on my neck and the other grasping my arm. She fisted her hand in my hair and bent my head to the left, then chomped down with a growl.

I cried out as pain shot from neck down my spine; her teeth ripped my skin as they latched deeper and deeper. Even as I slumped in her arms, I tried to keep screaming… her teeth ground into my neck and sucked at my flesh, and I felt dazed. I slowly realized what was missing… there was no burn. Maybe she was controlling her venom?

As I saw dark spots across my vision, my hearing exploded into static, and before everything turned to black, I wondered detachedly if I would really actually die this time.

I found out later that I wouldn't be so lucky.


	3. Chapter 3

_(A/N: I apologize ahead of time for my mangling of the Spanish language! And thanks to all who reviewed/favorite/alerted this story… This chapter's dedicated to Horlo246 whose review got me to post this right away!)_

3.

Bella

I awoke into darkness. Overwhelming pain and discomfort brought me out of my haze; my wrists were bound behind my back with a rough rope. Wherever I was, the room was swelteringly hot. My body was covered in sweat and my left arm was numb where I was leaning on the ground.

From the smell of the room, I'd been unconscious there for some time.

All I could hear was my own breathing. Whenever I moved my head the slightest bit, dizziness overcame me, blurring my vision and tilting the floor.

At some point, I passed out again.

The second time I came around, I woke up afraid, knowing right away that something was happening. Beads of sweat ran down my neck, tickling my over-sensitive skin. Metal clanged around somewhere close to me, and I began to cry… I desperately wanted this to just be a dream.

I heard vampire-quick footsteps coming toward me in the darkness, before a light bulb hanging from the ceiling blinked on.

Squinting against the light, I made out a short Mexican woman looming over me. Her small hand reached down and fisted my hair at the back of my neck, twisting it painfully. "Hola. Como te llamas, chiquita? Como el conoces a Peter? Tu eres su mimada, si? Debes esperar que el viniendo para ti." Her voice was soft, falsely sweet.

I recognized her words as Spanish, eliciting in me hazy thoughts of my childhood in Arizona, but I was confused – she knew Peter?

"Who - who are you?" I stuttered as her grip on me tightened. "Why the fuck am I here?" My voice became increasingly hysterical.

"Me llamo Maria, putita… y soy tu duena nueva. Peter es la posesion de _mi_. No es tuyo." She moved her hand to my throat and dragged me to my feet – her voice had become a threatening hiss, and I understood her meaning – _Peter is _her_ possession._

Well, shit. Was I dealing with a jealous and possessive mate? I felt nauseous at the thought of Peter with her, with other women…

This _Maria_ continued in English, pushing her face so close to mine I could see the dried blood at the corners of her dark mouth. "Peter took Jasper from me, and that bastard will die for it. As will you for standing by his side, you little whore. My scouts told me what he did for you…"

Maria rubbed her hard fingers on the new scar on my neck from Peter's venom. "So I know he'll come for you. And Jasper will come for him. Then you will all die." _Jasper? What the fuck does Jasper have to do with this?_

"Pero ahora…" her voice sinisterly playful again, my fear began to build, "tu eres mi juguete, puta."

Nausea spread through me as she leaned toward my neck, a sick smell wafting off her. She licked across my collarbone – her touch so different from Peter's – and sank her incisors into my shoulder, which _fuck_, hurt like a bitch, then dragged her sharp teeth down in a zigzag pattern.

She pulled away for a moment to inspect her work – I clenched my eyes shut; I didn't want to see the bloody mess, didn't want to be _aware_ anymore – then I felt her mouth sucking at the wound.

_Oh my god, ohmygod_, my mind screamed but I could only choke – then I felt a sick pressure underneath my tongue, and I vomited.

Maria froze, then disappeared, leaving me once again alone in my dark cell, only this time more bloody, nauseous and covered in puke.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck_…. I couldn't get my mind to shut up.

The skin on my wrists was on fire, and every time I moved my hands, trying to wriggle them out of the loosening ropes, sharp pains shot up my arms and the rough fibers of the rope dug further into my skin. I tried not to think too far ahead – how the hell would I get out of here if I did manage get my hands loose? – and focused only on my most immediate problem: I couldn't fucking move!

To distract myself from the pain, rising hysteria, and the sour taste of adrenalin in my mouth, I focused on the ever-present pain in my shoulder; I replayed Maria's mouth on me, her rancid-smelling hair up in my face, all the while twisting my wrists loose.

The ropes had loosened the tiniest bit when I heard heavy footsteps approaching the door. I tried to sit up, struggling from my position on my side with my arms behind my back.

A deadbolt clanged, then the door heaved open, and I looked up in fear. Not Maria this time – a dirty-looking male vampire stared at me from the doorway, a sick grin on his dark face.

"Now this is what I call a treat…" he murmured, stepping toward me.

"Get the fuck away from me!" I screamed, but he reached down and hauled me up by my arms and set me on my feet. I backed into the moist, slimy wall behind me, then jumped away from the gross texture.

"Whatever you say, pet," he laughed, "Let's get you out of those clothes." He reached for the neck of my shirt, but I jerked back.

"Are you fucking kidding me? Leave me alone!"

"Yeah, you really don't have any say in that…" This time he roughly grabbed the neck of my shirt with both hands and ripped it down the middle and threw it away from me onto the floor, then did the same with my shorts.

I stood before him clad in nothing but my underwear and bra, and my stomach turned at the sick way he eyed my body. Lifting my chin in pride, I stared back at him, trying to pretend at least that I wasn't fucking terrified at what he would do to me.

But thank god, at least something went my way today – the vampire muttered, "it's too damn bad Maria won't let me fuck you… you have one tight little body, human." Then more loudly, he said, "But she's right – you need a fucking bath. Your stench's getting pretty pungent."

He turned, grabbed a bucket filled with water from the hallway behind him, then splashed me with the bucketful of freezing water. I choked, not having expected the sudden deluge, and squinted my eyes, trying once again to pull my hands free in order to wipe the water from my eyes. "What the fuck!" I sputtered… which the vampire didn't appreciate.

"Watch your mouth, you little bitch." He spat, stepping up until only inches separated us and grabbing my chin, forcing me to meet his red eyes, "Don't think you're anything but a plaything to Maria – and to _me_ – until you've served your purpose."

He dipped his head down to my throat, sniffing for my blood along the way, then licked back up to my ear. I held my breath, trying not to move, as my heart pounded and fear blocked my throat. I didn't want to let myself think it, but I wished Peter were here to help me…

Moving me quickly to the point of disorientation, he spun me around by my shoulders, then ripped away the rope binding my hands and spun me back around to face him again. He grabbed both of my wrists in one hand, his tight grip crunching my bones together, and lifted my arms above my head and secured them with the remaining scraps of rope to what looked like a rusty hook jutting out from the wall about a foot above my head.

_Fuck, fuck, shit, fuck, oh my God_, "Hey!" I yelled, my mind racing, "You can't do this to me!" I tried to kick him but he just grabbed my legs and brought himself closer to me, pressing his lower body into mine and effectively pinning me against the wall.

"Little girl, you have so much to learn," his voice lowered, becoming husky, and he pressed an open-mouthed kiss on my neck. His hand moved to my chest, his fingers pinching my nipple – so I screamed. And screamed.

He didn't like that at all – he growled and bit into my as-yet-unmarked left shoulder. I screamed and tried to kick but only managed to buck my hips into his and rip the skin of my shoulder against his teeth.

His mouth retreated enough for me to see my blood running down his chin - bile rose in my mouth but I feared his reaction if I vomited again – and then he smirked at me, revealing his blood-stained teeth, and moved down to kneel at my feet.

Hands on my inner thighs, he forced my legs up and apart until my feet left the ground and I hung painfully from the ropes around my wrists. "Please, please no," I begged hoarsely.

But the vampire just laughed, pressed my legs further apart until I felt completely exposed to him. He nuzzled his nose up to my panties and breathed in deeply. _Please no_. I began to cry.

My eyes clenched tightly shut as I shuddered with repressed gasps and sobs until he bit violently into my inner thigh, growling and biting deeper as he sucked.

A guttural scream burst from my throat – I wanted to struggle, to hurt him, but my strength left me along with my blood. My head fell back against the hard wall, and I passed out once again.

...

Peter

...

He'd spent the day trying to distract himself – Bella had left a buzzing in his head, an unrelenting barrage of his memories of Bella going through his mind. He wanted nothing more than to track down Bella and demand she explain what the hell was going on between them, because he sure as fuck couldn't figure it out – but he'd managed to waste the day with repairs around his house, ripping up the old puke-green shag carpets and refinishing the hardwood floors beneath.

Night fell; his predatory instincts awoke and fueled his restlessness.

When Peter reached Bella's apartment and realized she was gone, he promptly freaked the fuck out. Her apartment was empty – just her furniture and belongings, curtains fluttering in the afternoon breeze. A hint of wildflowers and marijuana tinged the air, but both scents were hours old…

His stomach sank, and his mind went back to the last time he'd seen her – he'd decided against warning her of more newborns coming for her now that she'd been seen with him. He'd tracked both of the attacking newborns' scents several miles south toward Maria's territory, as far as he dared, but he hadn't picked up any fresh scents to worry about.

Peter walked around Bella's apartment, hoping to find something that might indicate what had happened here – her spilled blood dried in puddles on the hardwood floor of the living room, a half-drank bottle of beer sat on the round dining table, and her leather-fringed purse tossed haphazardly on the floor.

The room – the scene of Bella's possible _death_ – looked worse and worse, and Peter's frustration and panic grew. The quiet, rational part of his brain felt slightly surprised, considering this was just a woman, a pretty little human to be fed on. Most likely with some _sweet_ motherfuckin' blood.

But only when he noticed scattered scraps of wood littering the floor, and stooped down to collect one of the chunks of the broken door frame did he recognize the faint scent on them – a musty, rotting apple smell.

"_Fuck_," he breathed, "Maria's got her."

Focusing on Maria's scent where it mixed with Bella's, he followed her trail out the door of the apartment and down the stairs to the noisy street to where it dissipated into the humid night air.

She was just… gone. Peter's chest felt heavy, and the world around him seemed to slow. Desolation crept up his spine – and yet he felt confused at where these _emotions_ were coming from, all for Bella. He bent over, bracing his arms on his knees, and thought wryly that Jasper was lucky he wasn't here for the secondhand experience of Peter's shitstorm of emotions.

But – Peter couldn't grasp how he hadn't thought of this before – Jasper. If anything could help him take on Maria, it was Jasper.

Straightening up, Peter fumbled for his phone, his mood bolstered by the thought of Jasper's dark power and might combined with Peter's own fierce strength and experience – the time had come for Maria to get what was comin' to her.

Jasper answered on the second ring. "Peter. Haven't heard from you in a while."

"I need you in New Mexico. It's Maria."

"What the hell, Peter? You know better than anyone to stay away from her territory," Jasper said, sounding confused.

Peter growled, frustrated. "She took someone I need to get back. Right fucking away." He paused, closing his eyes and thinking of Bella's beautiful smile. "_Please, _Jasper."

Peter heard nothing but silence on the phone line for several seconds, then Jasper's low voice: "Meet me at our old house south of Roswell around dawn."


	4. Chapter 4

4.

Bella

...

Confusion and fear rattled my breath when I came to. I was terrified, but I couldn't remember why – but I knew I couldn't feel my hands, my arms were stuck above my head, my head throbbed, and I was _thirsty_.

The room was dark, I was almost completely, and the wall behind me felt slimy – and I was scared.

For the first time since I'd been brought here, my helplessness felt _real_. I was tied to a wall by a sadistic vampire and used as a blood-prize – I knew it wouldn't stop until I died or whenever Maria decided she was done with me.

Waking up once more to the filth, the pain, and the fear rammed home the realization that this was it for me – I wasn't going home. I wouldn't get to lay in my bed again, or play with my cat, or finally apologize to Charlie, or hug my mom.

I was dying, and I was scared – I wanted to cry, but no tears came.

My mind hazed over, the fear and pain dominating my thoughts until eventually I heard faint noises outside of the door to my cell and through the sewer grate above my head, leading to the open sky.

I welcomed the noise – noise meant vampires, and vampires meant a quicker end to my current plight.

Maria burst through the door, bringing with her a dim, yellow light from the hallway. In the semi-darkness she looked completely inhuman – face contorted into a snarl, eyes deep red, fingers cramped into claws.

"Donde esta Peter?" her words almost lost in a growl, she moved closer to me. "Cuando no que viene para ti?"

I looked into her crazy eyes, tried to clear my dry throat, then rasped, "Why would he come for me?"

Maria growled; her body began to vibrate and her growl rose and grew into a shriek. She lurched forward and wrapped her hand around my throat, squeezing tightly. "You little bitch. You made me think he'd come for you! He's supposed to come for you! Then I get my Jasper back, my major…" her eyes became dazed and she smiled sexually for a moment before rage took over.

"But _you_. You're just a little whore…. And I won't let you ever forget it."

She back away slightly, her facial expression twisted into a sick, manic smirk. Her animalistic face disappeared from my view as she crouched in front of me so that I could no longer see her – but then I felt her.

A point of coldness touched the skin on my lower stomach, then pushed into my skin – pain radiated outward in dull waves, and a sharper pain moved with the coldness across my skin, slowly down and around in patterns from the right side to the left.

A warm wetness trickled down my legs, pooling in the arch of my feet that barely touched the ground as I remained hanging – when the smell of iron hit my nose, I recognized the blood and bile stung my parched throat.

Maria jerked away suddenly - growls and shouts rang out from someplace distant from my cell. For one moment, I saw the crazed vampire's eyes widen with almost a holy reverence and joy, before she disappeared.

Leaving the door open behind her.

Yet I still hung by my numb wrists – I tried tugging at the rope by moving my arms, but they wouldn't cooperate.

Frustration filled me, and I fucking cried, _again_.

The door was open, but I couldn't move, everything hurt, blood dripped down the lower half of my body, and I was fucking _dizzy_ again. _No no please, I can't pass out now, I just need to get my hands out…_

I struggled and cried for more seconds until spots began to appear in my vision – in my dizziness it reminded me of the old 1960s-style television Charlie had when I was little – then my hearing faded into static and everything went black.

...

Peter

...

Five miles south of the city, a run-down farmhouse stood amongst a field of overgrown weeds and wildflowers. Peter sat on the front stoop, watching the stars shift as the night passed and listening to the cicadas and wind through the undergrowth.

Flashes of Bella's face from all the times he'd seen her ran through the back of his mind, prompting him to dig out an old pack of cigarettes to chainsmoke the anxiety away. He watched the smoke swirling its way up through the sky until the sun began to rise and he smelled his brother's scent on the wind.

Peter felt relief when Jasper finally reached the old house – he, Jasper, and Charlotte had pooled their limited funds for the house years ago when they'd wanted somewhere to call home permanently. Peter was anxious to get a move on – get Bella, kill everyone hurt her, and then maybe he'd allow himself to give in to the burning he felt whenever he saw her.

"Peter," Jasper said in greeting as he crossed the overgrown front yard, the sun bright behind him. He took a seat next to Peter on the creaking steps, his golden eyes curious. "Why the hell am I here? And where's Charlotte?"

Peter sat silent, unsure how to phrase his situation; he and Jasper had barely spoken in decades. "You know how Maria's been coming after me for years? She's been sending groups of newborns after me wherever the hell I go – can't fucking live in peace." Peter hedged, not entirely wanting to get into the rotten details of the end of his marriage. "Char got sick of it. Left me a couple years ago."

"Jesus, Peter, why didn't you tell me?" Jasper almost looked offended.

"You really think I wanted to interrupt your perfect life? Maria's just trying to get to you through me, you know that. She's still pissed I got you to leave her."

Jasper groaned, rubbing his hands over his face as the rising sun glinted off his straw-colored hair. "It's been almost a hundred years. You'd think she'd just fucking give up eventually."

Peter choked at Jasper's words. "Are you kidding me? You've been just waitin' and hopin' she'll give up on you? Who the fuck have you turned into? Last I knew, if anyone fucked with you, they'd be cryin' in pain and dead in seconds."

Jasper looked at him sharply, sending out a bolt of anger as his eyes met Peter's. "Well, what the fuck do you expect me to do? I'm here now, aren't I? I got away as soon as I could."

Peter cast him eyes skyward and took a deep breath. "Maria took someone I need back. And I need you to help me."

"What about Maria?"

Peter looked back at Jasper. "We kill her. Then we find my girl – if she hasn't been drained yet."

"What, drained? We're attacking Maria and her guard for a _human_?"

"Yes. She's mine. And you better not fucking say she's not worth it, considering your _vegetarian_ lifestyle." Peter focused with all his might on radiating his determination to Jasper, and leaked desperation in the process. "And you know that Maria deserves everything she gets for what she did to us."

"All right, _all right._"

...

Peter and Jasper ran south as the sun rose in the clear sky. Brown dirt and orange rocks flashed under their feet as they ran, kicking up clouds of dirt behind them. A few miles further into the desert, they encountered the caustic smell of Maria's camp emanating from a crack in the dirt, which gave way to an underground systems of tunnels serving as the vampires' compound.

Jasper entered the tunnels ahead of Peter, his back straight as he threw off waves of authority and power. The dirt-covered rock walls of the tunnels smelled old, dug over a century earlier, and they muffled the sounds aboveground, the wind and the wildlife.

Hope, anticipation, and anxiety built in Peter the further they walked into Maria's tunnels, passing rooms, some dark and empty, some with dark figures slumped against the walls smelling of death and decay. Peter felt sick and wanted to hurt something or someone as he imagined Bella lying dead in a dirty underground cell in this hellhole.

The darkness of the tunnel ahead of them shifted – a noise came from the dark ground, and as they rounded a corner, the tunnel became a bridge over a room that extended all around and below them. The room was deep and dark, with only a few torches jutting out from the walls. Peter could make out the dark figures of newborn vampires crouched around the edges of the room.

Growls came from the newborns, carrying their fear, anger, and thirst up to Peter and Jasper. Peter knew Maria kept her newborns in this pit – it used to be his job to keep them in line as they trained, fought, and fed.

Yards ahead of them in the darkness at the end of the path across the pit, Maria emerged. The newborns' growls increased at her entrance. Her hips swayed as she walked slowly toward then, followed by two guards – tall, vicious-looking vampires.

Peter stood tall and straight next to Jasper as Maria neared. With smears of blood on her face, she paused in front of Jasper and laid her hand on his chest. He growled at her in warning, and she grinned up at him. "I knew you'd come, my pet. I've missed you."

"You're sick, Maria. Why in the hell would I ever come back to you?" Jasper's low voice dripped condescension.

Maria only looked confused – her delusions apparently hadn't included anything but Jasper's willing return.

"You're done, Maria." Jasper began, but Peter wasn't content to wait and listen this stupid bitch's posturing. His rage at finally cornering the vampire who'd made his existence a living hell for a century and who'd taken the only woman he'd wanted in just as long got the better of him got the better of him.

With a growl, he burst forward, grabbed both of her forearms, then with a heavy kick to her sternum, ripped both of her arms clean off. The force of the blow sent her body flying off of the path, down into the pit of newborns.

Jasper smiled grimly down at her - Peter felt waves coming off the other vampire – Jasper was sucking up all of the newborns' fear of Maria and feeding their anger and frenzy.

Peter had seen him do it many times before as they had fought for territory when they'd been with Maria – Jasper would manipulate their enemies into attacking their own leader, and then Maria's army would attack from behind.

Growls, shouts, and screeching metallic noises rang from the pit. Maria was ripped apart and dying in seconds – the newborns lighting her body parts with the torches from the walls.

Peter took his chance and raced past Jasper, leaving him to deal with Maria's two useless bodyguards. Across the bridge and back into the tunnels, Peter searched for Bella's scent of wildflowers underneath the blood and fear in the air.

As he ran through the tunnels past closed doors, he focused on Maria's scent of rotting apples, knowing it would lead him to Bella. His anxiety built, and his body seemed to buzz with anticipation. He saw an open door in the hallway ahead of him, and he slowed before stopping at the doorway. The room was filled with light from a grate on the ceiling leading to the desert sky above.

He leaned his hands against the doorway, and squinted past the bright light – a woman hung from her wrists tied together above her head, wearing only tattered underclothes with blood and cuts covering most of her body.

Peter stepped into the room, nervous as _fuck_ now that he was here - and knew that the woman was Bella. Her heart beat softly, steadily – she was alive.

Bloody wounds on her lower stomach caught his eye – spelling out his name in blood. _Peter_ had been cut into her flesh.

In that moment, he felt worse than he ever had before – his throat seized up in imitation of the long-lost human urge to vomit. Bella just _hung_ there; a picture of ruined beauty against a grimy, dirty wall, with her long brown hair covering her face, tilted to the side. Peter felt like shit in that moment – Bella never should have ended up here. And she wouldn't have, if it weren't for him. Fuck.

He rushed to her side and reached up to rip away the remaining rope tying her hands to the rusty nail on the wall. Gently he lowered her to the ground and leaned her head back into the crook of his arm, letting her dark, tangled hair fall away from her face.

Bite marks marred the pale skin of her neck and shoulder, some healed and some fresh. Her face was dirty and tear-stained, with only a few scratches. Cradling her face in his hand, Peter leaned down and touched his forehead to hers, overwhelmed with gratitude that she was alive. He rubbed his cheek against hers, reveling in her wildflower scent and the warmth of her skin.

Peter then leaned back and surveyed the numerous cuts and wounds on Bella's skin; his eyes landed on the bite mark peeked out from her inner thigh, and he felt a tugging on his heart. The wounds disturbed him, and he knew he could heal her.

He lay Bella on her back on the dirty floor; venom pooled in his mouth until he lowered his head to the wound on her thigh and licked the wound shut with a layer of venom. Quickly, he did the same to each of the marks on her stomach, to each letter of his name, then to her neck.

Bella began to stir as he finished healing the bites on her neck.

"Bella?" Peter asked, but she didn't respond. She moaned quietly, but her eyes remained closed. Peter cursed to himself, then gathered her into his arms, stood, and carried her out the door.

Peter hurried back to Jasper on the bridge; the blond vampire stared down into the pit, where smoke rose from a pile of ashes. Jasper looked up as Peter neared, his eyes going wide when he saw the woman in Peter's arms, clutched against his chest. Peter radiated protectiveness, but Jasper just looked surprised at the sight.

"Bella?" Jasper asked incredulously. "How do you know Bella? And how the hell did she end up here?"

"She's fine, thanks for asking. Let's get the fuck out of here." Peter walked right past him, but Jasper grabbed him by the arm he had hooked under Bella's knees. Peter jerked to a stop. "What the fuck? Watch it, she's hurt."

"Peter, how do you know Bella?" Jasper asked harshly. "What, are you keeping _pets_ now?"

"Are you fucking serious? All that animal blood's rotted your brain – I don't play with humans, and you know that damn well." Peter turned his back on Jasper and strode away, not bothering to rein in his disgust and anger. Jasper waited a beat before following him out of the dark, dirty tunnels, and up into the light of day.

Bella moved slightly in Peter's arms, and he looked down to see her tuck her head more closely into his chest. Her hands felt warm where they grasped at the neck of his button-down shirt, but her eyes remained closed as she seemed to fade in and out of consciousness.

Jasper was quiet at Peter's side, hands in his jeans pockets and his eyes on the dusty ground. Peter walked next to him as they went back to the house at the outskirts of town. With the sun at his back and Bella in his arms, he walked back to his house, determined to make things right for her. In the mean time, Peter let Bella's warmth and steady heart beat comfort him.


	5. Chapter 5

_(A/N: Thanks everyone for the reviews/favorites/alerts! I love you all.)_

5.

Peter

…

Bella still hadn't come around by the time Peter had brought her through the house, up the stairs and into his room. He lay her down on his bed, pulling sheet up around her and sitting down on the edge of the bed. The low light of a bedside lamp cast deep shadows across her face, making even more ghastly the bruises and marks on her pale skin, from her cheekbones down to her collarbones, even her under the scrapes across her hipbones. Her skin looked nearly translucent against his dark blue bedding, and her shallow breaths worried him.

Peter had no idea what to do – and he refused to ask Jasper, the bastard, even though he had much more experience with living humans. Sure, he sucked 'em dry two or three times a month, but he damn well wasn't _gentle_ about it. Even then, as he worried over Bella in his bed, thirst prickled in his throat.

And none of his victims had ever affected him so badly – just looking at Bella got him riled up, and seeing her this way made him sick to his stomach, tense and angry at the same time.

After retrieving a damp washcloth, Peter tried to softly wipe away the old blood and grime marring Bella's skin. Her bruises showed even more prominently now. Peter sighed heavily, throwing the washcloth onto the side table. He cupped Bella's cheek, rubbing his thumb over her cheekbone, before leaning forward to kiss her forehead softly.

Peter headed downstairs – Jasper owed him some answers. He found his old friend in the backyard in a rickety old chair at an equally run-down old patio table, staring down at a cigarette in his hand. Peter recognized the battered pack of Reds he'd found that morning.

"Thought Alice made you give that up."

Jasper looked up, not surprised to see Peter walk up and take a seat across from him. "Yeah, she did."

"Jasper." Peter said, wanting his full attention. "How in the hell do you know Bella?"

Jasper wouldn't meet his eyes, and Peter felt faint waves of anxiety and guilt coming off his friend before Jasper began to speak. "I haven't seen her since I tried to kill her."

Peter's entire body involuntarily tensed, growling low in this throat. "What the fuck."

Jasper finally looked up. "About five years ago she was dating Edward – Carlisle's son."

"Edward?" Peter interrupted. "But he's practically still a child."

"So was she." Jasper said distractedly, seemingly lost in his memories. "It was her birthday. Alice threw her a party, and Bella got a paper cut. Started bleeding. I fucking lost it – I woulda killed her – wanted to. You know how I work – I was feelin' the bloodlust of every vampire in that goddamn room – and Bella's Edward's singer. After that, Alice convinced Edward and the rest of us to leave her, leave town. Said she had a vision that Bella didn't belong with Edward… I figured she'd want us gone after what I did to her."

"Jesus Christ Jasper, you're fucking lucky if I don't kill you right now." Peter was surprised as soon as the words came growling out of his mouth, still not sure how Bella had gotten under his skin so quickly.

"Look, I'm sorry, Peter. I had no idea she'd end up here." Jasper paused. "You want to tell me what's goin' on with you two?"

"What are you talkin' about?"

Jasper quirked his head, "You've got some pretty intense shit going on with you right now. You feel that, right?"

Peter groaned, rubbing his hands over his face. "You're telling me. I have no idea what's going on with me. I haven't thought about anything but Bella since I first saw her."

Jasper just chuckled. "You'll figure it out soon enough."

…

Bella

…

The deep scent of summer rain and sandalwood lingered in my senses when I finally realized I was awake. What didn't immediately occur to me was my lack of fear.

I was really becoming used to extreme disorientation upon regaining consciousness - as of late, however, I'd also been waking up tied to a wall in an underground dungeon by a slutty-looking psycho vampire.

My wrists ached and burned, pain shot through my back, and parts of my neck and leg throbbed – but I felt a pillow beneath my head and soft flannel sheets against my skin. I felt… safe, wherever I was, or in whomever's bed I currently lay.

I opened my eyes, but my vision was still blurry. Light slanted in through the curtained windows, throwing small shafts of light into the darkened room, and it sank in to me where I was. Or, where I _wasn't_.

Somehow I'd gotten out of Maria's hellhole – I vaguely remembered being moved, but my mind had been hazy with pain and dizziness from the blood loss.

Some things I did remember – being carried through dark tunnels, a strong chest beneath my head and arms around me. And I remembered the relief I'd felt as I breathed in Peter's scent all around me as he carried me back through the hot desert.

I didn't remember how I got to this room either. The room looked like your average man's room – wooden furniture, messy closet, random knickknacks thrown everywhere – yet I could tell I was in an intensely private space.

I simultaneously felt nervous and exhilarated at seeing Peter's bedroom. Lying in his bed.

Oh God. I let my head fall back on the pillow – which smelled amazing, of course, just like Peter – this was not helping me get over my fascination with the vampire. I wondered where he was, though.

Stretching, I ran my hand over my stomach, and stopped abruptly as my hand encountered rough skin on my lower stomach. I threw the blanket off of me and jumped out of bed to stand in front of a mirror I saw in a bathroom through a door to my left.

The light coming in through the bathroom window shone on my stomach – and I looked like shit in the mirror. My pale skin looked sickly instead of pristine, circles darkened underneath my eyes, and nasty looking scars littered my entire body, practically.

But when I made out the jagged lettering on my stomach, appearing backward in the mirror, my stomach heaved. One name – Peter.

I puked then, in the toilet next to the mirror and sink. My dirty hair stuck to my neck with sweat as I coughed and choked, trying to hold my hair back from my face.

I had a vampire's name scarred on my body. Permanently. I looked like Peter's property. Marked as his pet.

This, mixed with my fuzzy feelings towards him and his unpredictability, would not end well.

Finished with my puking spree, I stuck my head underneath the faucet and gulped away at the cool water. I trudged back toward the bed and noticed pile of folded clothes on a chair in the corner – a pair of women's sweatpants and a white t-shirt. I pulled them on before snuggling back beneath the covers. An overall grimy feeling had me wishing I had real, clean clothes instead of my days-beyond-dirty underclothes.

I huddled under the covers in bed and commenced with my worrying. It was all well and good that I was saved from the dirty psycho bitch, but I still didn't know where the hell I really was – just that I was snuggling up in what amounted to a murderous vampire's lair.

Peter was still a mystery – evil or not? And why had he saved me? He's fucking attractive as all get out, sure, but I still had no idea what he was really after. He hadn't killed me yet… yet killing me outright was only one of many cruel things vampires do to humans.

Outside of Peter, I had other problems to be nervous about – my lack of clothes, numerous injuries, and obviously my future safety in the world of vampires in general. Why couldn't they just leave me the fuck alone?

Listening more closely to the house around me, I heard soft noises from distant areas of the house. Men's voices filtered up from rooms below me. I stood up and looked out the window next to the bed. I looked out into a yard filled with big trees, the late afternoon sunlight peeking through the tree branches. Despite my anxious thoughts, I smiled to myself, imagining the warmth of the sun flowing into me.

So, leveraging my momentary positive outlook, I gathered my courage and strode out of the room to confront my captor and/or savior.

As I walked down the hallway, I noticed that the house looked quite old – kind of run down, completely unlike the Cullen house in Forks. I felt simultaneously reassured and uneasy at that thought.

The end of the stairway led to a empty living room, curtains again fluttering lightly in the breeze. Men's voices rang out again, this time much closer. A wood-paneled hallway led away from the front living room back into a kitchen – where a pile of gas station food littered the counter. I pounced straight onto the first Swiss Cake Roll I saw, humming in appreciation at the fake-chocolate taste and trying not to wonder how long it had been since I'd eaten.

At the back of the kitchen, a slant of light came in through an open door into the backyard.

As I stepped into the sunlight from the darkness of the kitchen, I had two things on my mind: seeing Peter and then finding some answers.

I shielded my eyes against the late afternoon sun, squinting to make out an overgrown yard stretching as far as I could see. And a couple yards in front of me, Peter sat at a rickety patio table nestled into the weeds. When I realized it was him and took in the sight of his profile against the bright sunlight, a burning began inside my chest.

Next to him, however, sat Jasper fucking Hale – or Cullen, maybe, but whatever.

"Jasper? Why in hell are you here?"

I marched over to the table and sat slowly on a rickety-looking chair. The scene felt surreal – Jasper in all his quiet and scarred glory next to the red-eyed, handsome Peter against a beautiful backdrop of wild nature with the sun setting in the distance behind a line of trees.

Peter smiled as I caught his eye, startling me out of my anger at Jasper's sudden appearance in my life. "Well? Anyone care to answer me?"

"Sorry, Bella…" Jasper seemed flustered. "I mean, Peter called me here to help bring down Maria, actually. And save you. How are you feeling, by the way?"

Oh. Surprising, getting a straight answer for once… and a name to put to the psycho face in my memories. I contemplated the various pains throughout my body, ranging from sharp stabs of pain in my ribs, my sore wrists, and radiating aches from the deeper bite wounds.

"Considering the circumstances, I almost feel… fine, I guess. I'm lucky I'm not dead. And look at this!" I lifted my hair away from my neck, exposing the already healed scar of Maria's bite. "I'm healed! How long was I… there?"

Peter smiled brightly at my question. "Like I've said before Bella, you're healed, and you're welcome. How much of all a' this do you remember?"

At Peter's words, the memory of when he saved me for the first time flashed through my mind – the growling face of my attacker, pain in my neck, and Peter's eyes on mine. But then I recalled a vague memory of his hands on me as I was released from the wall, and his touch was gentle. I guess that pointed toward the not evil option…

"Not much, really. But why…" I trailed off, not sure if I really wanted to ask. "Why would you go to all this trouble for me? And Jasper, why would you even bother coming down here to help me? And where's Alice?"

Jasper looked down, avoiding my eyes, but Peter wasn't having it. "Jesus, Bella! Of course we wanted to help you. You're a person too, you know." His soft tone tempered his sharp words.

I blinked at him, somewhat surprised that a human-drinking vampire would think of me as anything but prey. "Yeah, till you decide to kill me or leave me alone and I'm back to fending for myself. Then I'll just be dead."

Peter and Jasper exchanged a look of confusion.

"They always come for me," I elaborated. "I seriously think I'm a magnet for psychopaths. If it's not Cullens disrupting my life, it's the werewolves, or Victoria, or random newborns she sends." Encapsulating my train wreck of a life into so few trite words made me sick to my stomach. I leaned forward to rest my forehead against the cool table.

Peter shifted forward in his seat, resting his arms against the rickety patio table . His forehead crinkled with concern. "I don't understand. Why do they keep coming after you?"

I raised my head and met his red eyes. "You're the vampire; you tell me. I've been told I'm irresistible." At my sarcastic challenge, a rakish grin spread across Peter's face – a look that once again sent desire throughout my body. I leaned back in my chair and crossed my legs.

But then, of course, Jasper spoke up and I remembered there was an empath in the sitting at the table with us. Good god. "Actually Bella, the only reason you were attacked this time was me. Maria was trying to get to me through Peter, and by extension, you. I'm sorry, I really am. Maria's done for, though. You don't need to worry about that."

I looked down at my hands in my lap, uncomfortable with the fresh memories of Maria's underground cell. Dark green and blue bruises covered my wrists, with red scrapes crisscrossing all of my exposed skin. The old fear started to rise again, this time for another reason: what was I going to do now?

I wished I could just go home, curl up in my bed with the covers over my head, and pretend this had all been a bad dream. But I knew I could never again feel safe there… and I also knew I didn't want to leave Peter. He drew me to him like no one else ever had, and damned if I didn't want to know why.

And as mad as I was at Jasper for all of his and the Cullens' faults, I remembered that he and I had been friends once, and I'd missed him when he'd left, though I'd understood why he of all people felt a need to just get away after my disastrous birthday.

Which meant that I had to keep myself around the two of them somehow. Like many other things, the thought of going home alone to my trashed and violated house made me sick to my stomach.

After several minutes of nobody speaking, just the sounds of the wind and insects chirping around us, I looked up and met Peter's eyes. My voice came out softly. "I don't think I can go home… not yet."

Peter merely nodded, a look of sad understanding crossing his face. Relieved, I felt the tension leave my body. I relaxed down into my chair, leaning my head back to look up at the twilight sky. A deep breath in tasted of ragweed and desert dust – it felt like home.

I sat there quietly, listening as Jasper and Peter eventually began to argue over who was the best idea to go amongst the local humans to retrieve supplies for me.

Feeling restless and wanting to explore the overgrown yard, I stood and left the table. Grass dotted the expanse of clumps of twisted bushes and dusty animal footprints. A path led away from the house and down a rough walkway to a copse of trees and a small pond.

Across the dark blue water, a willow tree hung its branched canopy over a dirt ledge, shielding me from the sun and casting dancing shadows across my skin. I took a seat on a dusty rock ledge jutting out over the scummy water and stared up at the advancing sunset.

…

Later, when the sun had set and only the sounds of the wild remained, the ground felt cool beneath me. I heard rustling behind me, and the calm I'd felt disappeared evaporated. I tensed, anxiety building in my throat, but then I heard Peter calling my name.

My heart jumped into my throat, and I went from scared to exhilarated straight back down to confused – what in the hell was making me react so strongly (and _strangely_) to this particular vampire?

As I stared straight ahead, Peter stepped up next to me, then sat quietly to my right, dangling his long legs over the ledge.

I turned to look at him, imagining how handsome he would have looked in the earlier dusky light of the sunset. "Thank you," I told him, smiling a bit when he turned to look at me, surprised. I wanted to tell him how much I meant that, how sure I'd been that I was going to die, and how safe I'd felt when I'd finally felt his arms carrying me through the desert – but my subconscious reminded me that Peter was still a stranger to me, no matter how fascinating I found him.

I looked forward, down into the swirling water that caught the moonlight where flies disturbed the surface, and I tried to will away the tears that came into my eyes.

Peter draped his arm around my shoulders, and I leaned against him, glad for his strong, solid presence. I breathed in his deep scent, closed my eyes, and thought about nothing – not the bloody name across my stomach, not the pain stiffening my bones and muscles – focusing on Peter beside me and the wild night around me.

…

Peter

…

A while after Peter had found Bella, she relaxed into sleep with her head nestled into his neck. He smiled to himself, wondering how this was happening and also how long the two of them would go before figuring any of this out. He couldn't keep his hands off her when she was near, and she gravitated towards him just as strongly… he knew where the signs were pointing, and that only made him worry about her even more.

How would she handle the trauma of whatever Maria had done to her? How would she deal with his named being carved so violently – and permanently – into her skin? And would he be able to keep all this shit from completely falling apart before they even got started?

Peter sat contemplating Bella and his own future, until the stars in the sky had shifted, and a light wind swept through the across the dry land. Bella shivered under his arm. Her heart beat slow and steady, and Peter thought then how much she fit here in this field behind his house, her soft scent of wildflowers complementing the warm, open air.

He sighed, knowing he should get Bella back to the house so she could sleep in a real bed, but not wanting to leave this quiet place she'd found for them. "Bella?" he prompted her, but she didn't react. Peter picked her up carefully, tucked her against his chest, and carried her back to the house.

He brought her back to his old bedroom, tucking her back into his bed, trying not to imagine Bella stretching out on his bed in an entirely different situation – Bella pursed her lips in her sleep as these thoughts ran through Peter's mind, and he felt somewhat abashed. He leaned down, kissed her soundly on the forehead, and retreated from the room, pulling the door closed behind him.

Jasper had also retreated inside and was rustling around in his old bedroom on the third floor. Peter was glad for it, not wanting to face any more questions until a new day.


	6. Chapter 6

_(A/N: Thanks again for all the reviews/favorites/alerts, etc… I love you all! My excuse for this taking so long is that I'm completely broke - despite my two jobs and college degree! - & can't afford internet access in my apartment so I have to get pretty creative when I want to post things. And of course then my car died yesterday! Anyway, I hope you like this!)_

…

6.

Bella

…

_Sweat, grime, and blood dripped down from the ceiling onto me – pain radiated down my arms from where my hands were tied above my head to the wall. My breath came in fast gasps and my heart pounded – I was still in that cell. Maria was coming for me, to finish what she'd started… I could hear her laughs coming closer, echoing through the metal bars on the door to my cell. _

_She appeared in the doorway, her ruby eyes glinting. "Hola, chiquita. Piensas que puede escapar de mí? No, no, no…" Fear built in my gut, my heart pounding faster and faster until she lunged and dug her sharp teeth into my neck. I screamed…._

I jerked awake, covered in sweat, still panting and shaking from fear. "Oh God…" I breathed. _Maria's dead_, I told myself. _Dead. You're okay. You're with Peter and Jasper. You're in Peter's bed. _Now, that thought definitely jerked me out of my fear. Peter.

Somehow, thankfully, knowing I was in Peter's home, his bed, made me feel safer than I'd felt since before I'd ever learned about vampires in the first place… but I did wonder how I'd ended up in bed when the last thing I remembered was sitting out by that pond with Peter. The memory of his arm around me and my head on his shoulder brought a tingle to my stomach and a smile to my face.

Lying back against the pillows, I breathed deeply and stretched, trying to complete forget about my terrifying dream. Doing so, however, required me to figure out what to do with myself – I couldn't stay here out in the country forever, but I knew for sure I couldn't go back to my life from before I'd met Peter. Sooner or later, I'd have to deal with my life – my job (if I still had it after missing my last couple of shifts) and the damage to my apartment. Maybe I could convince Peter to come with me to retrieve some of my stuff.

With that plan, I got out of bed, washed up, put some clean clothes on, and went downstairs, hoping whoever had retrieved supplies for me had picked up something a little more substantial than more Little Debbie snacks.

I found Jasper alone in the living room, reading a book. I hesitated, still not sure what to think of him… he'd helped save me, sure, but he'd still abandoned me all those years ago with the rest of his family. The last time I'd seen him, he'd tried to eat me.

But whatever. _Time to put on your big girl panties_, _Bella_, I told myself and cleared my throat. "Hey Jasper."

He looked up from the book in his lap and smiled warily. I looked around, but the rest of the house felt empty. "Where's Peter?"

"He ran out to get you some food. He said he wanted a human adventure – hadn't gotten to deal with human food for over a century."

I laughed, finding I liked the idea of Peter getting a little enjoyment out of the situation we'd gotten into. A calm, welcoming atmosphere surrounded Jasper like a cloud, drawing me into the room, so I curled up on the opposite end of the couch. Maybe he and I didn't need to have any serious talk about what had happened just yet. For now, I was more than fine with that. Even thinking about such distant painful memories was a little too much right now, when I was still in a daze from everything that had happened to me.

Jasper tossed me a TV remote, which I surprisingly caught. "What's this for? Are you telling me Peter has cable?"

Jasper just laughed. "Yeah, he does. Why or how, I have no idea. It's probably illegal somehow, but it works."

I shrugged and turned on the TV, and within minutes I was zoned out on _Dr. Phil_. Eventually, I heard the back door swing open. I peeked over the back of the couch and saw Peter coming in with a bunch of bags of food. The daylight followed him in, throwing diamonds of light glinting off his pale skin, and highlighting his silhouette – tall, broad shouldered, with disheveled dark hair. Once again, the tingles in my stomach fired themselves up again, and began to spread a little lower…

I tried to distract myself and focused on my growling stomach. "Food! What'd you get me?" I rushed over to Peter's sight and smiled up at him. He gave a low, throaty laugh and grinned slightly. "No idea," he said. "I grabbed whatever the truck stop had in the freezer section, some water and some fruit. Looks pretty disgusting to me, but you'd say the same about my diet."

Well, I couldn't argue with him there. Just seeing human blood still made me queasy. I rummaged through the bag and decided on the fruit. As I chomped happily away on the banana, I crossed food off my mental to do list. Next: some clothes, please! "So Peter, can I ask you a favor?"

"Anytime. What do you need?"

"Will you drive me to go pick up some things from my apartment? I can't go another second without my own clothes." I smiled brightly, hoping my enthusiasm would persuade him.

"Course, darlin'."

"Awesome!" I threw the rest of the banana into my mouth and tossed the peel into the garbage can before throwing open the door and striding out toward the driveway. "Let's go now! Come on, Peter!" I threw the words back over my shoulder.

He just laughed as he followed me out the door, catching up to me as I stopped in surprise when I noticed his car – a pale blue old best from the 60s. I didn't know what kind it was, but it was a damn nice looking car. Manly, and all. "I like it," I told Peter with a smile, and he almost seemed to swagger as he swung himself down into the driver's seat before leaning over and pushing my door open.

"She's my baby. I've had her for damn near thirty-five years. We've been through a hell of a lot together." He said fondly before turning the key, and the car shook and ground its way to life.

I held back a laugh as I asked, "You sure she's going to make it all the way into town?"

He threw me a dirty look, which just came off as sexy instead of intimidating, and then I couldn't help but let out a happy laugh. As we picked up speed down the dusty country road, I leaned my head out the window a bit and closed my eyes, the warm sun bright against cheeks and eyelids. I felt almost free – I imagined my soul as a blank slate, completely unmarred by all my bad decisions and all the pain.

I managed to keep a hold on that feeling of calm equilibrium until we pulled up to my building. Peter got out of the car first and paused by my door as I slowly climbed out, then made my way up to my apartment. At the turn in the stairs, I looked up and saw bright yellow police tape hanging across my door. "What the hell?"

Peter stopped, standing halfway behind me, then reached out and ripped down the tape. "Someone must have called the cops."

Oh yeah, of course. Maria had broken the door right out of its frame that night – I remembered wood chips flying everywhere as I'd stood there, shocked and scared. Must've been kind of loud.

I took a deep breath and reached for the new doorknob, belatedly wondering where my house key had gone. But the doorknob turned easily, and I pushed the door open, walked inside, and crinkling my nose at the smell of the stale air. The humidity and my blood that still smeared the living room floor, mixed with the leftover chemical smell of rotting apples Maria gave off.

My apartment, what had been my home for the previous two and a half years, felt completely strange to me now. I wasn't in my own living room, I was in the room where Maria had almost killed me. My decorations on the walls, my furniture, even my bookcases looked old, out of focus almost. I really didn't want to be here anymore.

I looked over at Peter, but he only gave me a nod and an encouraging touch at the small of my back. So I took a deep breath and marched into my bedroom and started packing up my few things. My purse and its contents still lay scattered across my living room floor.

In my room, I grabbed some clothes, toiletries, my journal, my wallet, a small photo album, and, after a second thought, my old copy of Wuthering Heights – all went into my old leather backpack my mom had bought me during her hippie days. I pulled on fresh underclothes, feeling ridiculously relieved, and a pair of worn jeans, then the most comfortable, airy white tank top I owned.

Even after only a few minutes in my un-air-conditioned apartment, I could feel sweat gathering on my neck and down my back, so I threw my hair up into a messy bun before declaring myself finished packing and ready to move the hell on from this place. I gave a mental good-bye my mismatch belongings scattered through the apartment, hauled my bag up over my shoulder, and then walked to Peter, who was leaning in the doorway.

His eyes focused on my neck, flushed with heat and damp with sweat; I held out my hand as I walked up to him with a weak but hopeful smile. "Let's get me the hell out of here."

His hand warm in mine, we walked back down the stairs out to the car. When Peter pulled the car away from the curb, I felt pressure lift off of me, as if I had moved out from a grey cloud of hurt and stress just by leaving my old apartment behind.

…

Jasper interrupted. He'd walked into the kitchen and looked a little fidgety – strange behavior for him.

He cleared his throat, leaning his forearms against the counter and saying, "I talked to Alice this morning." I stopped in mid-chew raised my eyebrows in his direction. "She's pissed I left to help you guys… and she's coming here. She said she'll be here by tomorrow morning."

"What." I practically growled at him. "She better be fucking coming alone. There is no way in hell I want to deal with the rest of your supposed family."

Jasper sighed, looking contrite. "I don't know; she didn't say if she told anyone else about her vision. I'm sorry, Bella."

"Great. Just fucking great." A Cullen invasion… the last fucking thing I wanted to deal with right now was that pack of liars. Well, there went my morning. I turned and strode right out of kitchen, out the front door onto the porch where I'd seen a pack of cigarettes the day before. I grabbed the cigs and a lighter sitting next to them, and made my way around the house out toward the pond I'd found last night.

I stomped down the dirt path, ranting to myself the entire way. Stupid little all-seeing, all-knowing Alice and her manipulations were back in my life once again. In the years since Edward had left me, I'd thought a lot about my relationships with each of the Cullens. The one that pissed me off the most was Alice – she'd convinced me that we were best friends, but all the while she'd tried to mold me into what she thought I should be, what she thought Edward would want. My hair, clothes, makeup (or lack thereof) all had to be changed for me to be accepted as a Cullen. And then she'd left without even a goodbye. Well, fuck that.

I had no idea what I would do if Alice brought Edward down here with her... although I had waited three years to give that lying asshole a piece of my mind. I didn't want to see him, but then again I did… if only to prove to myself that I didn't need him, that I was fine and whole all on my own.

The little quarry, pond, or whatever came into view, and I once again settled myself on the rocky outcropping over the water. I'd forgotten how long it had been since my last cigarette, but once I lit one of Peter's Marbie Reds and took a deep drag, I felt more relaxed than I had in days.

Peter's footsteps were a welcome sound after the first few drags of my cig had calmed me down a bit. He settled himself next to me, and after a few minutes of silence began tossing dusty pebbles into the pond, sometimes aiming at some ducks dipping into the water for food. Eventually, he asked, "Why'd you get so mad back there?"

I blew out a long breath. "Ugh. I don't know. Alice just… she treated me like shit. She was always going on and on about being my best friend, but I was never good enough just the way I was. She was always trying to change me… and I let her. And then she just left without even a goodbye."

Peter didn't respond, just looked at me with a steady gaze, his red eyes contrasting his calm demeanor. I looked away, then tried to flick the butt of my cigarette out into the water. Of course, with my clumsy fingers it only went about three feet. "It's not even that Alice is coming… I had a nightmare last night. It was… I was still chained up in that hole underground. And that… that psycho vampire Maria was about to finish me off."

The ease with which the words kept tumbling out of my mouth surprised me – I couldn't remember how long it had been since I'd had someone I felt I could confide in. Pulling my knees up to my chest, I wrapped my arms around my legs.

"Bella…" Peter started. "I honestly don't know what to say to you… I'm sorry I got you into all a this."

"I remember she said something about you and Jasper, but I couldn't figure out what she meant… did you… how did you know her?" I asked hesitantly, not wanting my fears of Peter's bad side to be confirmed.

"Well… start at the beginning, I guess. Did Jasper ever tell you anything about how he was changed?"

I shook my head.

"About a hundred and fifty years ago, Maria and her sisters started up an army. They were greedy – always wanted more. More blood, more territory, more power. They were building up an army. Changed Jasper when he was fightin' in the Civil War. With Jasper's empathic abilities and Maria's straight savagery, their army fought and won territory in Mexico and the Southern U.S." Peter cleared his throat, fidgeting a little. I smiled to myself, liking his remaining human tendencies. He snagged one of the cigarettes out of the pack sitting between us, lit one up, and took a deep drag before continuing with his story, his southern accent becoming more pronounced the deeper he fell into his memories.

"All I remember about my change is being dead drunk in an alley after losing a bar fight. Next thing I knew I felt like I was burnin' alive. And I was. Couple days later I woke up in hell. I had no idea what was goin' on… I was out a my mind with rage and thirst. She had me locked in a room underground for days before she let me out, and then I had to fight to earn somethin' to drink.

"Eventually Jasper was ordered to kill me – but I convinced him to let us go. A year later I went back for him – he was just about lost in all the rage and despair comin' off the newborns. Maria's been hunting him down ever since. She's been trying to get at him through me for just as long – that's how you got dragged into this." He stopped, sighed, then turned to me and gave a slight smile.

"Listen, Bella, I can't argue that Alice isn't a lying, manipulative bitch, but if you can survive Maria, a little visit from Alice will be no problem. And you know I'll always back you up no matter what."

My grin could've cracked the sky at his words – somehow he'd given me exactly what I needed to hear. He'd been put through hell just like me, worse even, and here he was, strong and sexy as ever. If I could pull myself through day by day, I was beginning to think that I'd be fine.

The next moment, the air shifted – Peter went completely tense, and he looked around into the surrounding weeds and clumps of trees and bushes. I saw nothing, but then Peter jumped up, pulled me to my feet, and said, "Bella, run back to the house. There's somebody coming - "

Peter looked too scared – there was something I was missing. "Peter, what – " But then his hands were on my face, pulling me in for a hard kiss. My hands landed on his waist as I leaned into the deepening kiss for only a few moments of pulse-pounding exhilaration before he pushed me away, like a strike to the heart. I stumbled backwards with a soft cry of indignation. "I'm not just going to leave –"

He interrupted me one last time, looking dangerous under the pressure of what was to come. "Bella, run."

At the sound of footfalls in the distance rode on the wind. I ran – I couldn't help it. The memories of previous attacks assaulted my mind, pushing me to will my legs to go faster as I heard growls and crashes behind me. Twisted undergrowth looked like streaks beneath me as I came closer to the house. I yelled Jasper's name, hoping he would hear me with his super sensitive vampire hearing, but I barely managed to form the name when someone tackled me to the dirt, sending me sprawling.

A vampire stood before me; with his back to the sun, I couldn't see his face, but when he spoke, I recognized his voice – from Maria's tunnels. "You think you can just escape, little girl? That we wouldn't come for you?"

He was the one who'd bit me, toyed with me while lamenting the fact that Maria wouldn't let him kill me. Malice lit up his red eyes as he crouched closer, his gravelly voice lowering into a whisper.

"Now that Maria's gone, this territory is up for grabs. We'll kill your boyfriend – and you tell the empathy he's next. If you survive, that is…" I screamed as he lunged for me, biting down on my neck with a savage growl. I screamed for Jasper, and as shocks of pain spread through my body, I heard an even more threatening growl than I'd ever heard came from behind me.

Jasper grabbed the attacking vampire and ripped him away from me. I fell back, clutching at my bleeding neck – and to my horror I felt an intense burning beginning to spread.

In the background of the spreading burn, I could see that Jasper had lost his pacifist, vegetarian-vamp demeanor – with his black eyes, I saw the vampire from Peter's story. And he did not look happy.

My vision began to blur as they fought – my breaths were coming way too fast, my body shook with fear and adrenaline, and my subconscious screamed at me to _go find Peter_. The burning spread from my next, attacking my spine and creeping into my arms. With blood covering my neck and hands and dripping down my arms, I tried to stand, but only swayed unsteadily before crumpling back to the ground.

Growls, shouts, and the screech of tearing flesh tore through the air, but I could only see Jasper's dark figure before me. The fire took hold, my eyes clenching shut, and I was _pissed_ at the injustice of it all.

This wasn't supposed to happen anymore – the exact thing I'd wished for at seventeen was happening now, and it was just _wrong_. The venom ground its way through my veins, building to an overwhelming crescendo that never seemed to quite reach its peak.

Through the roaring in my mind, I heard Jasper's voice, seeming to come from a great distance – my muscles clenched as pain seared through my skin and bones – and he gathered me in his arms and began to walk, his low voice reaching for a soothing tone to match the ineffective waves of calm he pushed toward me.


	7. Chapter 7

7.

_If you could only see_

_The beast you've made of me_

_I held it in but now it seems_

_You've set it running free._

_The saints can't help me now,_

_The ropes have been unbound._

_I hunt for you with bloody feet_

_Across the hallowed ground. _

…

Bella

…

As I looking back, black periods taint my memories of the first days after I was murdered – intervals of time when I lost all hold on sanity and reason in the rage-filled hunt for blood.

I am left with brief stumbling snapshots of the worst feelings of my short life, all underscored with a keen edge of desperation, every moment a nightmare of a different flavor.

Those first days after my death were clouded by intense surges of rage, despair, and frantic anxiety, as the people who'd caused me the most pain in my life interfered even into my death.

…

The pain wouldn't stop – building and building, flaring through my bones, coming screaming out my mouth – and I couldn't think of anything else.

Tears built in my eyes, and yet I couldn't focus on anything but the pain burning me alive. Time seemed to ground to a halt –the burning intensified and the madness of pain consumed me whole.

I burned and burned, till I even lost _me_. But as time went on, the burning raged through me, over me and into me, until my subconscious finally detached itself from the pain. Images floated through my mind –three flickering moments, the most forceful three impressions of my short life.

Edward's coldness as he tore me apart with his words, that awful day in the woods. The lonely figure of my dad, standing in his driveway in the rain, watching as I drove myself out of his life for the last time. The strange, intense expression on Peter's face in the still moment before he moved to kiss me, his eyes wide with raw emotion.

I remembered how angry and grief-stricken I'd been when I realized what was happening. Peter had been taken – he was in trouble, and I'd just run away like a coward. I needed to _help_ him, and now I was completely helpless myself. The pain of the burning change mixed with heartbreak and fear, adding an anxious tinge to the waves of pain I felt as time passed.

Eventually the burning faded slightly from my fingertips and toes, intensifying and drawing into my chest, concentrating into a torch on my heart. And when I could no longer stand it… my heart burst. Stopped altogether.

I inhaled deeply, tasting everything on the air. After one second, then two, a tugging on my heart brought back everything, every memory of my last minutes alive – and I knew that I had to help Peter.

…

I almost felt asleep – no aches, no lingering pains. I didn't move at first, instead just focused on my exceptionally heightened sense. A faint scratching noise came from the floorboards, and behind several walls and doors, I heard a shifting, as of two fabrics rubbed against each other. Beyond the walls of the house, a cacophony of evening nature sounds played as background music to my rebirth.

I inhaled deeply, breathing in a riot of complementary scents – sandalwood, old leather, and something deep and sweet, almost like warm summer rain on the dusty ground. Peter.

But by the faintness of his scent, I knew he wasn't here, hadn't been for days. My stomach clenched when I realized he was still gone – whatever had happened out there after I'd run away had stopped Peter from coming home. Certainty filled me, however, that he _couldn't_ be dead – every cell in my body hummed with the knowledge that Peter was alive.

Light reddened the insides of my eyelids until I finally opened my eyes.

Peter's room looked surreal – like I'd seen the room in a blurry, old photograph then was suddenly seeing it in high definition.

Cobwebs and smudges of dirt lingered in the corners of the ceiling – a spider climbed a thin strand of webbing hanging from the closet door. Well, at least as a human I hadn't had to see _that_ up close and personal. So I closed my eyes again.

_Great job, Bella_, I chastised myself. _Three seconds as a vampire and you already want to go hide. _I allowed myself one deep, calming breath, grateful that even though I'd woken up alone, it had been in Peter's bed.

Then, I heard heavy footsteps coming toward the bedroom door – too heavy, really, why were they stomping around so loudly? – startled, I darted out of bed and backed into the corner opposite the doorway.

Jasper walked up and leaned against the doorframe with a small smile, and I was glad for his calming vibes. My anxiety level was rising, tied directly to the dryness in my throat.

An easy smile on his face, Jasper merely asked, "You feeling all right? Thirsty?"

I could only nod, one hand on my throat and the other clenched tight into a fist at my side, knowing what came next: I find out how much of a monster I've become.

"All right, come on downstairs and we'll go out back." He retreated back down the hall, leaving behind a swath of his calming vibes. He was acting strangely – anger spiked in my heart when I realized he was probably just trying to keep me from losing it. I abandon Peter, then I'm brutally murdered and wake up as a incontrollable newborn vampire. Not even close to being fair.

My anger and thirst continued to feed off each other as I followed Jasper's trail down the stairs to the front door and out onto the porch – where he stood with his back to me, giving off waves of hostility.

A sense of foreboding overcame me, such that I was barely surprised to see that in front of Jasper stood the last two people I'd ever want to see. Edward and Alice.

"What the hell are you doing here, Edward?" I spit out.

I'd almost forgotten how beautiful he was – since he'd taken every last picture I'd had of him. Such beautiful features – yet he looked so _young_. Frozen forever at the cusp of adulthood.

Well, I was older now, and I no longer swooned at his feet like a little girl.

His bronze hair shone in the sunlight, his skin glittering sickeningly – I remembered how fascinated I'd been when I'd first seen that phenomenon. Distracted, I held my own arm out into the sunlight, out from the shadows of the porch, marveling at the change from my pale, dull human skin.

Edward hadn't answered me. He and Alice stood side by side, both giving me the once-over.

I looked up. "Seriously?" I asked. "I've got shit to do, you know, blood to drink. Speak up or move it along."

Edward's hopeful words belied his distressed expression. "Bella, I apologize for my absence – what's been done to you is all my fault! But I'm here now; I'll protect you. I can take care of you."

What the hell, was he serious? He sounded so certain, not even questioning that I would take him back. "Protect me? Where have you been the last four years? You didn't want anything do with me, remember?" I injected as much aggravation and derision into my words as I could.

"Oh Bella, how could you doubt my love for you? I only left so you would be safe – I've loved you since the moment we met!" Okay, now he was starting to sound like a bad Lifetime movie.

With an incredulous shake of my head, I stomped down the porch steps, out into the sunlight of the front yard, stopping a few feet away from Edward. I really didn't want to get too close to him. "Abandoning me is not loving me." I said harshly. "Love is a choice; love is being there for someone."

"No, love, you're wrong. I do love you. We're meant to be together, you must know that." He looked at me beseechingly, his hand rising as if to cup my cheek. No, thanks – I slapped his hand away.

"Listen to me, Edward. I don't love you, and I don't believe in fate. I believe in choices. And I'm not choosing you."

From Edward's side, Alice gave a derisive laugh. "So you're choosing Peter? He's nothing! He's a murderer, Bella. He's dirt. And he's as good as dead now, anyway."

At her words, I felt a second of shock, then rage. The next second I had both hands around her skinny little neck as I tackled her to the ground. I knew I was overreacting, but that part of my mind was drowned out by my crazy-intense newborn emotions.

Ignoring Jasper's shouts behind me, I growled as Alice tried to throw me off. "What are you talking about, Alice? You've seen where he is, haven't you?"

"I told you, he's as good as dead. He won't be able to fight and kill his way out of this one, so give it up." Her usually perky expression turned dark with anger, and her struggles intensified before she slackened in my grip. I wondered why until I heard Jasper's low, commanding voice.

"Tell us where the fuck he is, Alice."

Her amber-colored eyes reflected her internal struggle against her husband's influence – emotions flashed through her eyes as I held her there in the dirt: frustration, despair, apathy, even briefly love. Venom built in her eyes before she finally choked out, "Fine! He's where Maria had Bella, underground."

"Who took him?" I asked.

"I don't know, I don't recognize them. They're just trying to fight over Maria's old territory – if we just leave it'll be _fine_-"

I cut her off with a shake. "How many are there?"

"10, maybe. I can't tell for sure!"

I searched her expression for evidence of deceit and found none; I let her go and stood. Jasper pulled me away from her with a hand on my elbow, leaving his wife sprawled on the ground. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, a new feeling welling up inside me – hope. Peter wasn't dead, not yet. But he needed my help.

I steeled myself mentally for what was to come. Opening my newly sensitive eyes against the harsh light of day, I caught Edward's eye. I had nothing more to say to him, but I held his gaze as I said, "Jasper. Teach me to hunt?"

He didn't reply, but began to lead me away toward the desert expanse behind the house, turning our backs on Edward and Alice.

A sour feeling swam around my stomach – as much as I myself I didn't care anymore, Edward had stirred up feelings of anger and worthlessness that I'd tried to leave behind years ago. Seeing him standing out on that lawn, looking at me with bright eyes, had thrown me back to when I had thought I'd loved him, back in Forks.

As Jasper and I tramped through the scraggly weeds toward the craggy hills miles past Peter's house, I struggled to keep hold of myself. Pent-up energy, hysteria, and anger all fought to escape, and my grip on sanity was slipping. My throat screamed with pain – the dry tickle had given way to a raging thirst – and my muscles twitched in need.

Eventually we came upon a path sloping downward between mounds of boulders. The path continued downward into something of a valley, with rocky walls dotted with small vegetation – and in the distance I heard a wet thumping and a soft purring growl. My eyes instinctually searched out the source – a wildcat. In that moment, I gave in. And I was relieved.

For a few moments, I lost my sanity, and my humanity with it. All that separates us from animals – thoughts, emotions, conscience – was gone. I knew hunger, violence, and instinct. Escapism in its truest form.

My first hunt passed by in a blur of snarls, teeth, and warm, sweet blood.

I came to my senses kneeling next to the wildcat as it died in front of me, my fingers tingling where they clutched at clumps of bloody fur.

I knew I should feel remorseful, repentant, or _something_ - but instead I just felt… sated. If an animal blood made me feel this good, this darkly invigorated, I couldn't even imagine how arousing human blood would be…

I forced my mind away from that thought which caused thirst once again to build in the back of my throat. I remembered, then, the deep red of Peter's eyes, and I finally understood his choices.

…

_(A/N: The lyrics at the beginning are from Florence + The Machine's _Howl_. Let me know what you think of this chapter! What you want to see more of, what didn't like, whatever… I'd love to hear from you!)_


	8. Chapter 8

_(Disclaimer: I am not S. Meyer, and I do not own Twilight.)_

8.

_And I will hold on hope  
>And I won't let you choke<br>On the noose around your neck_

_And I'll find strength in pain  
>And I will change my ways<br>I'll know my name as it's called again_

…

Bella

…

The midday sun cast shadows over the desert brush as I followed Jasper through the desert toward the tunnels where Peter was being held. My mind ran through a constant replay of the time I'd been held there, tortured and terrorized – Maria's dark, laughing eyes; the pain of teeth dragging through my skin; and the awful vulnerability of imprisonment.

I felt sick with those memories and the anxiety of wondering if that's what was happening to Peter. A deep worry grew in me – I just couldn't imagine Peter ever losing a fight or ever giving in at all. I knew he wouldn't – he'd fight till his death. And that's what I was worried about.

I couldn't imagine it – didn't want to – but I remembered Peter's strength and resilience as he'd helped me through. My faith in him was strong.

I tried to have as much faith in Jasper's plan as I did in Peter. Granted, I'd seen Jasper's power and viciousness as he'd torn apart James in Phoenix and as he tried to take a bite out of me on my birthday.

But now, from the determination and (feeling of power) I felt projected in his wake, I suspected I hadn't yet seen what Jasper was truly capable of. Honestly, I was pretty intrigued by the notion of Jasper's true nature, after he gave up the civilized, humane veneer the Cullens adopted.

So far today, though, the ever-taciturn Jasper hadn't given me many details on his plan to bust Peter out. He'd asked me how much I knew about his gift, which wasn't much, and then explained just how much people were slaves to their emotions – every decision we make is based on our emotions, our gut feelings.

Jasper controlled emotions, and the right combination could make anyone do pretty much whatever he wanted. And, he'd said, besides that, most vampires were afraid of him on sight because of all his old battle scars.

I must have looked confused when he said this. "Weren't you afraid of me the first time you saw me as a vampire?" he'd asked.

"No." I said honestly, squinting at him through the glare of the sun. Looking at him now, though, out in the bright daylight, I tried to imagine how someone else would see him.

Flat, silvery scars littered his glimmering skin, concentrating most around his neck, and I imagined most of them continued down his arms and back. An intimidating sight, to be sure – these were marks of war, of experience, and my newborn instincts balked at the sight. I knew Jasper had a good heart, though. Even remembering how he attacked me on my nineteenth birthday, I didn't fear him now.

He must have sensed my trust in him, as he then leaked a little bit of gratitude before launching into an explanation of his plan for rescuing Peter. According to Alice, all the vampires in the area were fighting for control of Maria's old territory, and the attack on Peter had been to draw out Jasper, whose reputation in Maria's army made him the most powerful vampire in the area.

In my opinion, Jasper and I just walking in there would mean playing right into their hands. They'd obviously be waiting for us, and I really wasn't looking forward to a suicide mission. Jasper merely told me with a wry grin that he'd just have to show them who's boss.

His certainty momentarily calmed my riot of nerves, although the sickness in my stomach intensified as we neared the entrance to the tunnels. An unimpressive, dark hole in the ground, it barely stood out against the desert backdrop. I didn't remember being dragged in there the first time, after being attacked in my apartment by Maria, thank God.

As we descended into the tunnels, darkness slowly overcame us. The warm, damp air underground smelled like mildew and, well, kind of like death.

We followed a dirt path deeper into the tunnels, passing door after door, each hiding a dark room visible through rusty metal bars. In some, bodies hung from manacles on the walls, all dead humans. I could feel evil down here, coating the walls and creeping along the dark corners.

The further we walked, the more freaked out I got, until we came to an open room where a rocky path arched out over a pit. Ahead of me, Jasper walked slowly out on the path, and I followed behind him.

My nerves rose to a screaming pitch when I was tackled from behind and sent flying. I landed hard on the bottom of the pit.

Someone pulled me up by my shoulders, and around me stood a crowd of vampires. All were wild-looking types. Some Mexican, some white, all dirty, vicious-looking men. I didn't see Peter. _Shit_, I thought. This was not going well so far.

Another vampire came up next to me and grabbed me tightly by the arm, turning me around and pushing me back down to my knees roughly. I looked up, frightened, just in time to see Jasper leap down from the path up above. He landed bended on one knee, much more gracefully than I had, in the midst of the hostile crowd.

Unlike me, he didn't look nervous in the least. He straightened up, looking intimidating in the shadows cast by the torches flickering on the walls. He unbuttoned his flannel shirt and shrugged it off, exposing a white t-shirt underneath and even more scars marring his arms.

As Jasper flexed his arms and surveyed the vampires around the room, he projected out waves of fear, rage, and anguish, interspersed with pulses of intense shock, sending a few of the vampires to their knees in pain and confusion.

Jasper looked every bit like the warlord he must've been when he had run Maria's army.

From the group of maybe 15 vampires skulking around the pit, one muscular, dark-skinned vampire approached Jasper, strutting with exaggerated bravado. "I know who you are, and I don't think you're shit. This is my territory, pendejo."

Jasper didn't look impressed. "Fuck you." Then with a growl, he attacked.

As I watched Jasper fight, kneeling uncomfortably on the ground, I was struck by how well he fought – he must've had some serious experience. I winced as Jasper gave a last serious hit to the other vampire's jaw, sending him spinning around, down to his knees.

Jasper grasped his head from behind, then with a great wrench, twists it fully off. As the body fell, he pushed out a cocktail of fear, anguish, anxiety and shock, before tossing away the head and asking the surrounding circle of vampires, "Who's next?"

God, I almost wanted to clap.

Another fierce-looking vamp stepped up, and Jasper dispatched of him with savage efficiency, throwing him down face-first on the ground, grinding one knee into the other vampire's back before ripping one arm off with his teeth. Then he did the same to the other arm, then the neck, finally silencing the vampire's shouts of fear and begging for mercy.

Another stepped forward, and then another.

I thought the more Jasper got into the fighting, the more he let go and gave in to his inhuman, demon side, the more vicious he got. The fear and anger he projected seeped even into me, as hostility seeped throughout the room, working the room into a humid cloud.

Eventually, he's surrounded by more piles of body parts then upright vampires, and he turned to the two shaking vampires still holding me, pushing out a slap of emotional pain that caused the two to drop me and back away.

Jasper's eyes were dark when he looked down at me from amid the carnage with a nod, telling me it my turn. I turned and ran, heading for the path leading out of the pit, wanting to find Peter as soon as possible.

I rushed through the tunnels, past door after door, but all were empty. Peter could be anywhere. I had no idea where these tunnels led, where he would have been taken. As I grew more and more frantic, I forced myself to stop and stand still in the middle of the path.

I closed my eyes and concentrated on my surroundings – cataloging every sound, smell, taste on the air – but there was nothing.

I blew out a frustrated sigh, rolling my eyes and feeling inept, before attempting to concentrate again. This time, I calmed myself, slowing my breaths and reaching further inside. I thought of Peter, of the last time he'd smiled at me, and how I felt when I was around him and the strange, electric pull that always drew me toward him.

My instincts took over. I ran, faster than I'd ever imagined I would be able to, following the draw on my heart, like a compass pointing to true north. The distant banging became louder as I ran, turning corners, down the tortuous tunnels.

The sun broke through the earthen ceiling, illuminating a door up ahead, next to which a key hung from a nail on the wall. I felt like my heart should be pounding a mile a minute as I took the key. With a turn of the lock and a slight push, the door swung open.

In the shadows at the back of the room, Peter stood facing away from me, with his arms braced against the wall, shoulders tense. He turned quickly when I opened the door, his face a storm of emotions, and I saw, really saw, for the first time the array of scars marring his skin. To my vampire eyes, he looked vicious, masculine, and quite wild. His eyes were almost completely black from thirst, or maybe anger – only faint hints of red touched his irises.

But when his eyes locked on mine, a warm feeling bloomed in my heart, and a wave of tingling dizziness overcame me, starting in my chest and moving outwards, each nerve in my body flickering – but then Peter lost the desperate, unraveling look on his face as relief and wonderment took over.

"You're alive," he breathed.

I grinned with a giddy relief. "Yeah… sort of."

He stood frozen for a moment, still looking shocked, until he shook it off and strode forward and kissed me.

I reveled in the feel of his rough hands cradling my face, his soft lips on mine, and just his _nearness_. I reveled in the scent that was uniquely him – sandalwood, summer rain on dusty ground – which was so much richer, more complex to my new vampire senses, and I couldn't get enough. God, I'd missed him. I clutched at his waist, pulling him closer to me.

As he deepened the kiss, I pushed up on my tip-toes, wanting to get closer. Peter pushed back, maneuvering me a few steps back and pressing me against the wall. His hands wandered down my body – his touch left trails of tingles on my skin, and I hummed in delight. He smiled against my lips and with a low growl pressed his body fully against mine, fitting one knee in between my legs and pressing me against the wall.

I rested my hands against his strong chest, as he began to press wet, open-mouthed kisses down my jaw line, to my neck, and fisting a hand in my hair. With each kiss, a bolt of desire shot through me, a tangle of desire growing between my legs where he pressed against me.

In the background, my subconscious (the only part of my mind not wholly focused on Peter's amazing kiss) heard footsteps approaching, then a familiar laugh, and then the footsteps retreated. The dominant part of my mind ignored this and focused on Peter's rough, passionate kisses.

My hands wandered back up to his chest, brushing over the rough scars on his neck, and reaching up to clutch at his soft hair. I sighed out his name, enjoying the overwhelming sensation Peter's mouth on my neck, body pressing against mine, hands holding me securely against him.

I brought up my hands to cup his face, pulling his mouth back to mine. He gave me a deep, final kiss, before pulling away and resting his forehead briefly against mine, his eyes closed. After one quiet moment, he leaned back slightly, locking his eyes on mine. The look on his face was open and intense.

"You're really okay?"

"I'm really fine," I said reassuringly, rubbing a thumb across his cheekbone and over the new scars and bite marks he'd picked up. "Not so breakable anymore and a hell of a lot stronger."

He gave a relieved laugh, and finally seeing a smile on his face soothed my still jangled nerves. He kissed me once more, chastely, then looked around at the dank cell, his prison. "Want to get the fuck out of here?"

"Can we? I really hate this place." He laughed, and led the way back through the tunnels, his strong hand clasping mine firmly, past the disgusting pile of dismembered vampires ready to be burned, and out into the light.

…

_A/N: Hope you all liked it! This would have been up days ago if FFN wasn't fucking up so bad. Anyway, let me know what you think! Reviews are like sunshine & rainbows to me. :-) _


	9. Chapter 9

_Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, no money is made from this, & no copyright infringement is intended._

...

9

…

_She got jumper cable lips  
>She got sunset on her breath now<br>I inhaled just a little bit  
>Now I got no fear of death now<em>

…

Bella

…

After climbing for hopefully the last time out of those godforsaken tunnels, Peter's comforting hand on my lower back, the open air and bright daylight were a welcome relief. The air above ground felt heavy, dense with a surreal humidity, pressing against my hypersensitive skin. \

I turned to smile at Peter, still giddy at his safe escape, and I was struck by the sight of him in the sunlight, the first time I'd seen him in the sun since I'd been changed.

He was absolutely striking. I felt like I was seeing him for the first time all over again, but now I could actually _see_ him – the soft waves of his hair, the curve of his next to his strong shoulders, and the dark eyelashes framing his eyes. Noticing my stare, he turned to grin at me inquisitively but then a curious look took over his face – just like what I must have looked like ogling him. The realization brought me to a laugh, and his deeper laugh echoed mine. He leaned in for a warm kiss, his touch sending shivers all through me.

As we walked a little ways away from the cave, I spotted Jasper leaning against a boulder near some desert brush and assorted wildlife. Unlike me, Japer looked less than ecstatic and relieved at Peter's safe return.

From his slumped posture to the desolate, shaken look in his golden eyes when he looked up at Peter and I, I knew at once the toll murdering all those vampires had taken on him – from all I'd ever seen of Jasper, he naturally sought calmness and peace. He was forever soothing and comforting those around him, from Alice's frustration and occasional fear at her visions, to Rosalie's temper and Edward's moodiness - his entire family counted on him to keep their peace.

And from the way Alice had been acting back at the house earlier, I had a feeling Jasper was getting more manipulation than love or support from his wife. So I marched right up to his moping form, put my hands on his shoulders, and waited until met my eyes straight on, hoping the sincerity of my words would cut through Jasper's thunderstorm of black emotions.

"Jasper, I know what you just did was rough on you – and I can't imagine what it's like to deal with your gift – but you did well today. You're a good man, remember that." With that, I gave him a hug. I could tell he was surprised, but after a second he hugged me back, leaking weary gratitude. A weak smile had made it onto his face by the time I pulled away.

Jasper turned to Peter, and gave him a manly hug. "I knew you'd be fine, you old bastard." They both laughed, playing the aloof guys act, but by their wide smiles I knew they were both glad to be whole and safe. I was reminded then of just how long the two of them had been friends – somewhere near a hundred years. I was impressed and almost proud of their obvious loyalty to each other.

In contrast, the Cullens looked like the moral degenerates of the vampire world, not Jasper and Peter. The Cullens constantly watched over Jasper, faithlessly expecting him to slip up and kill someone, and they certainly hadn't been loyal to me, abandoning me without a second thought.

Sure, Jasper had left me behind, too – but I couldn't really expect him to stick around to keep me safe after trying to take a bite out of me on my birthday. And I could only imagine how badly he felt about that.

Peter slung an arm around my shoulder, pulling me in close, and his presence both comforted me and set me afire. Then, the three of us turned toward the setting sun and headed toward home.

…

My mind buzzed with wild, rampaging thoughts in the few minutes before our return to the house - I fought to keep myself focused on one thought, one thread. I felt thirsty again, as if my earlier hunt just been a particularly unsatisfying appetizer. Through the pain in my throat, I alternated between reveling in the pleasure of Peter's touch and solid body next to me; worrying whether Edward and Alice were still hanging around for more piteous lecturing; and trying to silence the quiet voice inside prompting me to expand my diet to something more dangerous and satisfying.

Peter tensed slightly as we neared the near and came within range of Alice and Edward's scents. The two of them waited for us on the front porch, both of them looking pretty angry.

Edward stood at the top of the steps with his arms crossed in front of him, ironically looking like he was defending the house against its returning owners.

Peter, apparently, had no strength left for patience. "What the fuck are you doing here?" He demanded of Edward, dropping his arm from around me and stepped slightly in front of me, blocking me from Edward.

Looking slightly uneasy at Peter's ragged appearance, Edward mustered the nerve to only address me and ignored Peter completely. He still, somehow, stood tall with condescending petulance. "Bella, you're coming home, with me. You can't choose a murderer over me, over the family."

All I could think was, really? Again? "Edward, you really don't get it, do you? I'm not yours, and I don't belong to your fake family."

He interrupted my rant. "Of course I understand. You think you're being independent, but you're wrong –"

I growled a warning. "Just stop, Edward! You have no power over me, not anymore. You didn't want me four years ago, and you have no logical reason to think I would ever take you back. You need to leave me the fuck alone."

Edward took my words like a slap to the face – his face twisted in anger, and he tried to protest, "No, Bella, you're coming home with me now."

Edward barely spat out the words before Peter had him pinned against the front door of the house, with a forearm to Edward's neck. Peter threatened with a growl, "Don't you fucking say another word. You're not welcome here. Leave, or I'll kill you." Peter released him.

With a sulky flounce, Edward turned away and left, stomping down the porch steps and striding out into the yard. I hoped he kept right on walking.

Peter turned back to me then, looking completely drained, bruise-like shadows under his eyes. He grabbed my hand, and I let him pull me into the house. The screen door banged shut behind us, cutting us off from Jasper and Alice on the porch. I heard her high pitched voice dig into him almost immediately, and I had to wonder what was up with those two.

The air inside the house was cool, sweetly familiar. I followed Peter up the stairs to his room, where he sat on the bed, rubbing his face tiredly. He pulled me forward, and I stood before him and threaded my fingers into his dark hair. He looked up at me, settling his hands around and I smiled at the almost childlike look of exhaustion on his face. "You've had a rough couple of days, haven't you?"

"No worse than you." He pointed out, raising one eyebrow at me.

I shook my head slightly, smiling. "I'm trying to forget about that part, thank you very much." To be honest, I was planning on never thinking about the three days of torture ever again. I'd basically become one of those girls I'd always seen on TV, missing and presumed to be horribly murdered. Yet here I was, feeling more or less fine but a little crazy, with an astonishingly handsome man in front of me.

"You're sure you're okay?" I asked him, running a thumb over his cheek.

"I'm sure… How are you so calm?" He asked.

"What do you mean? How am I supposed to be?" I didn't know what to think… although I did remember that when I was human, all I'd been told was that newborn vampires were completely crazed, incapable of reason.

He laughed lightly. "No, I mean, you're so controlled. Aren't you thirsty? Newborns are usually out of their minds with bloodlust."

At his words, a flame flickered in my throat. I rubbed at my neck absently, and shrugged. "Yes, I'm thirsty… but it's not too bad."

"I've been around a lot of newborns in my time, but you… you're something else."

I just shrugged and smiled innocently. "Hey, I'm not complaining."

He laughed again, then pressed his face sweetly against my stomach, sighed, then stood. "I need a shower, and then we need to hunt."

That flame pulsed, spread fire through my throat Hmm… I had a decision to make.

Peter smiled ruefully, no doubt noticing my excitement, then kissed me slowly. If his earlier kisses had been filled with relief, this was one was for pure pleasure. It ended much too soon, in my opinion, as he turned for the bathroom.

I wandered over to the chair by the window, the one I'd sat in one afternoon before I'd been changed. This time, I could hear miles farther, and deeper too – birds flying through distant clouds, a deep creaking throughout the old house, and Jasper and Alice still arguing outside on the front porch.

I could hear their voices as clear as day, even though I was looking out a window on the other side of the house.

"Alice, why the hell did you bring Edward here? You must have seen the shit he'd pull." Jasper's indignant voice floated up.

"Edward loves her! And at least he's not a murderer."

"You've always hated Peter, and you have absolutely no reason to! Alice, I don't understand when you stopped caring about anyone but yourself, honestly. You act like Bella's your puppet, and you treat Peter like shit. Not to mention me. You've been trying to control me since the day we met, and you know it. You and the Cullens treat me like a child. With them is not where I'm supposed to be, I know that for sure."

Holy shit. I'd never heard Jasper raise his voice at Alice, and I was strangely proud of him for finally putting her in her place.

Alice lashed out derisively. "Oh, but your place is with Peter and Bella, the man-jumping slut? How dare you. I did everything for you! You know I love you, Jazz…" My mouth dropped open in shock at that one.

"Don't lie to me, Alice." Jasper laughed darkly. "You're filled with vitriol, jealousy, and possessiveness, but not love. Not anymore."

"So what, you're just going to write me off, like nothing? You have no idea what you're doing."

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

"Just a vision." Alice sounded deceptively innocent, the little manipulator.

Jasper growled with frustration. "You know what, I don't want to hear it. I want to figure out my future on my own for once. We're done. Go home, Alice."

Alice sputtered, probably attempting to protest, and I heard her foot stomp on the ground. I grinned to myself at her petulance, proud as all hell for Jasper. I couldn't wait until Alice and Edward finally left us all alone… and I was really curious to see what Jasper was really like, away from Alice and the rest of the Cullens' influence.

I moved back to Peter's bed, curling up on my side so I could see out the window to the sky outside. Silently lamenting the growing burn in my throat, I closed my eyes and wished I could still sleep, could still feel that floating, comfy feeling right before falling asleep.

When Peter came out of the bathroom, I turned to see him approaching, deliciously shirtless and wet-haired in worn jeans. "Oh, hello…" I teased, enjoying the view.

He grinned devilishly as he climbed onto the bed next to me, stretching out on his side and throwing one arm around my waist.

"You know, I was startin' to think I'd never get to do this," he said sweetly, leaning in press kisses along my neck.

"You didn't think I'd come for you?" My voice came out all breathy, and my hand crept up to tangle in his hair.

Peter pulled back slightly, looking serious all of the sudden. "I hoped, but I had no idea what happened to you. If you would get to Jasper in time."

"He found me in time."

"And… I wasn't sure if you'd come. I mean, think about it. Since you met me, I've caused you nothin' but grief. Those newborns, Maria, you getting' changed; they were all because of me—"

"Hey." I interrupted, hating the guilt in his eyes. "Forget about that. Don't you remember how many times you've saved me? You even saved my life the first time we met!"

A slow smile spread across his face, warm like honey. "That's not what I count as the first time. You looked sexy as hell that time I saw you on the street, remember that?"

"Oh yeah…" I would've blushed if I were still human. "I figured you were just looking for your next meal."

"I was, but you were too beautiful to kill." A rakish grin spread across his face, and I felt him brush his thumb across my hipbone, where his arm was slung around me. I liked how his skin felt rough against mine.

Peter leaned down to kiss me. He pressed me back against the pillows, and I twined my arms up around his neck. His mouth felt hot on mine, as his hand moved higher up my waist, under my shirt. My skin felt deliciously hot everywhere Peter was touching my – until he abruptly went still. He looked down at my lower stomach, where his thumb rested on my hipbone, and my gaze followed his.

When I realized what was still there, I felt sick. Maria's mark hadn't been erased in my change… Peter's name, carved brutally onto my lower stomach. Forever. Oh God. I'd been so distracted when I'd changed my clothes earlier, I hadn't even noticed.

I watched Peter warily, not knowing how he would react to me walking around, branded with his name for all eternity. But he surprised me. Without a word, he shifted himself downward, and pressed soft kisses to my scars. I was touched.

When he came back up and looked at me with those dark red eyes, I pulled him down for a rough kiss. He reciprocated just as fiercely, one hand tangling in my hair and the other running down my body, over my waist, and pulled my leg up around him. I shifted, and he settled himself in between my legs. He kissed me deeply, pressing his hips against mine. Desire sparked through me, and I couldn't hold back a low moan.

As the heat and passion grew, so did my thirst, until the bloodlust started to overcome the pleasure. I broke off the kiss, and said breathlessly, "I need to hunt. Now."

…

_(A/N: Thanks so much to all readers & reviewers most especially! I love you all. The lyrics at the top are from "40 Day Dream" by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros. I just bought tickets to go see them in May so I couldn't help but put them in here. Also, I will absolutely love you forever if you leave me a review…)_


	10. Chapter 10

_(As always, Twilight belongs to S. Meyer, not me!)_

…

10.

_There's a drumming noise inside my head  
>That starts when you're around<br>I swear that you could hear it  
>It makes such an almighty sound<em>

_Louder than sirens  
>Louder than bells<br>Sweeter than heaven  
>And hotter than hell.<em>

…

Bella

…

As Peter hustled me to his car – he'd nixed my idea of running, hopefully to keep me from murdering the townspeople too early – I felt like I was losing my mind. A part of me cried out for blood, another part fought for control, for normalcy. Despite the encroaching darkness of twilight, the world felt bright around me, a red haze creeping in on my vision.

I climbed into the passenger side, glad for the bench seats in the old car when Peter slid in behind the wheel and placed a comforting hand on my leg. I clutched at his arm as he drove, and he smiled down at me, laughing at the no doubt terrified look on my face. "Aw, Bella, you'll be okay. Try bein' excited!"

I could only shake my head. The desert breeze in through the window tasted like dirt in my mouth as I turned toward the window, but as we approached the city, I buried my face in Peter's shoulder for fear of freaking out at my first scent of human blood. His scent and the feel of his soft flannel shirt against my cheek calmed me somewhat, dulling the chaos in my head.

After an unendurable wait and yet too soon, Peter pulled over, stopping the car in a neighborhood that honestly would have terrified me when I was still human – run down, boarded-up houses, graffiti everywhere. The ghetto.

"You sure about this?" He asked, seriously. "You want to take a human life?"

I took a deep breath and then said honestly, remembering all the horrible people I'd encountered in my short, messed-up life. "Some people are monsters… they don't deserve to be alive." I looked up, meeting Peter's eyes. "And I need to know what I am now… I'm built for this. But most of all… I want to."

He nodded acceptingly, and then we got out of the car and began walking down the sidewalk, listening to the sounds of the neighborhood – car alarms in the distance, music, heartbeats and harsh voices inside the closest houses. The burning in my throat intensified with anticipation.

We hadn't gone too far when three guys turned the corner from the alley, directly into our path. As I walked slightly ahead of him, Peter immediately grabbed me from behind, holding me in place with his hands on my hips, fingers grazing my hipbones.

The dangerous-looking trio was dark-skinned, wearing baggy jeans, doing that sideways limp-walk, an acrid, chemical scent coming off of them - heroin, most likely – that masked the delicious scent of blood pumping through their veins. I itched, ached to taste them…

"What you doin here, motherfuckers? This is Blood territory. You ain't welcome here." The middle one spat through his shiny grill. Blood territory? I almost laughed – he didn't know how right he was.

"Tell you what, snow bunny," he continued, limping forward as his _homies_ surrounded Peter and I, each pulling out guns and trying to look threatening.

The leader continued, "I'll let you go – just you – if you blow me." I watched in shocked revulsion as he reached down and began unzipping his sagging jeans. "Come on, bitch, get busy."

Peter leaned down slightly, kissing my neck once and then whispering angrily in my ear: "Get that fucker."

At that, I gave in, gave myself over to my bloodlust, to the thirst and to the voice inside calling me to find my true prey.

With a sway of my hips, I flitted forward and pinned him roughly to the cement wall behind him. With one hand around the back of his neck and the other holding him in place, I breathed in the scent of his blood, savoring the anticipation and letting my bloodlust build. The burning in my throat reached a fever pitch –then with a growl, I bit down on his neck and tasted heaven and hell.

_Fuck_ – the warm blood tasted sweet, tangy and blazed a hot trail down my throat and spread through me. I moaned into the guy's bloody neck, oblivious to the violence behind me.

I felt dizzy, almost orgasmic – like my vampire self solidified. I was electrified, with a burning in my chest, a tugging – and, I realized, a connection to Peter. As I drank, the blood came slower, the man's heartbeat stuttering, so I pulled away and let him drop. I licked my lips, savoring the last sweet drops of blood.

Then instinctively, I turned to glance over my shoulder, absently wiping at a smear of blood on my mouth. I caught his eye as he stepped toward me, over his victim's body, through the dim yellow light from the streetlamp, reflecting off patches of blood glittering on the concrete. "Peter," I said faintly, my voice sounding far away.

Exuding danger and straight sex, with a smear of blood across his lower hip and jaw, he strode forward purposefully and kissed me roughly, pushing me back up against the cement wall behind me. _Fuck,_ everything was so much more intense as a vampire.

I tasted sweet blood on Peter's lips, and I reveled in his heady scent, feeling the blood lighting me from within. Then somehow we were on the ground, with me on my back, Peter's hips between my legs and his hands all over me (from my hips to the sensitive skin at my wait, up to my chest – my hands grasping his waist, pulling closer) and there was pressure, friction, a hardness, right _there_. He ground against me, and I couldn't help but moan out loud – Peter moved his mouth to my neck, kissing and biting till I cried out.

"Peter," I panted, and he pulled back, the passion in his bright eyes matching my own. In a moment, so many silent words passed between us – and like the eye of a storm passing, we crashed back together. His kiss was electrifying, and his hand strayed south, down my jeans, touching just – just right there, pressing and circling my clit, then pushing deeper.

I shivered at the pleasure – his hand worked faster, and he kissed me harder. The burn of pleasure built, intensifying at Peter's touches, jolting me each time his thumb brushed my clit.

My hands moved up over his chest, to clutch at his shoulders and in his hair, almost purring as Peter's mouth moved to my neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses, sucking lightly. When the pleasure built to an impossible height, he bit down sharply on my neck, throwing me into one perfect moment of pure pleasure – hot, bright, and sharp - and I shattered completely.

I enjoyed only moments of that perfect bliss before threatening voices and footsteps rang out from only streets away. Peter and I both shot to our feet, me re-buttoning my jean shorts, clumsy with my newborn strength. "The rest of the gang, I'm guessing?" I asked Peter, and he nodded in agreement before grabbing my hand.

"Come on; we should get back to the car. They can deal with the bodies."

My stomach lurched as I remember just where we were – three deathly still bodies crumpled in the narrow alley just off the main street. Blood pooled underneath their bodies, creeping toward a drainage grate. My conscious mind recoiled at the site, but venom pooled in my mouth as I remembered the intoxicating taste of human blood… and the burning returned to the back of my throat.

On the way back to the house, as I leaned back against Peter with his arm around me, his hand tapping out the rhythm of the song on the radio, I propped my legs up on the door and let my feet dangle in the wind. I closed my eyes and savored the atmosphere of the night – I felt sated and calm, like I knew I was in the right place. A strong sense of rightness floated through the car. I smiled up at Peter.

"How you feelin'?" He asked. "Think you'll stick with my diet?"

"I don't know… back when I was with Edward, I was always so sure I'd be a vegetarian like the Cullens if I were ever changed. I never expected to end up here, but honestly… it feels kind of right."

"Feeding on humans is our true nature." Peter agreed, swiping his thumb against my shoulder. "Natural selection at work. Humans can be cruel, can truly deserve or even with for death. The cancer patient, the child predator, the serial rapist. People en masse see what they want, and ignore the underworld of crime, poverty, and pain."

Peter pressed a sweet kiss to the top of my head, then rumbled out a rueful laugh. "Besides, self-control's not one of my strong points."

Curious, I asked, "Did you ever try to feeding from animals? No humans?"

"Honestly? No. I don't see any benefit of denying myself. The stress, the frustration – the slightest thing would make me explode. I regulate the wildness so it won't explode all at once." Remembering the sight of Peter's predatory, masculine stance in the street after we fed, I knew that Peter enjoyed his wildness, reveled in it.

I also knew his reasoning was sound. "That's why the Cullens were such a threat to me. Jasper tried to kill me once, you know. He wasn't used to my scent… but I could never really blame him."

Peter had gone tense when I brought up Jasper's attack, and his voice was low and rough when he replied. "Yeah, the fucker told me what happened. Looked like he felt pretty guilty about it, too."

"Now who's the empathy?" I teased, and Peter grinned ruefully.

The gravel road crunched under the tires as we left the main road, and when the house finally came into view, I realized how much it really felt like home.

…

_(A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter! You always make my day. Sorry this one is a little shorter and took a little longer to post… I rage-quit one of my jobs the other day so I wasn't exactly in the writing mood, lol. On the bright side, I have way more free time to write now! Oh, and the lyrics at the top are from "The Drumming Song" by Florence + the Machine. _

_Let me know what you think! What you liked, hated, want more of… I'm always open to ideas!)_


	11. Chapter 11

11.

…

_What's done in the dark will be brought to the light._

_You can run on for a long time_

_Run on for a long time_

_Sooner or later God'll cut you down._

…

Bella

…

The bittersweet smell of marijuana floated through the air as I walked up to the front porch of the house, where Jasper lounged, leaning back in an old deck chair. A burning joint hung loosely in one hand, curlicues of smoke drifting upward. Old country music played in the background, the twangy and sorrowful sounds of Johnny Cash throwing me back into memories of hanging out on the rez, with Jacob and his family.

Peter laughed at the sight. "Getting back to your roots there, Jasper?" At the moment, I was more interested in the joint than in Jasper's transformation from Alice's preppy hangdog into a real person. A damned interesting person, too, if the music and the weed were taken into consideration.

I bounded up the stairs to where Jasper sat, perching myself on the low wall of the porch. "Want to share? Can vampires actually get high?" Peter laughed at my eagerness as he took a seat next to me, leaning back with one arm on the ledge behind me.

"Sure can. Doesn't last very long, though." He held the joint out to me.

Just touching it, holding it threw me right back to all those days and nights I spent alone back at my apartment, getting high and trying to forget about all the loneliness and danger. How I'd been rejected by the Cullens, by the Pack and everyone on the rez, and how I'd done the same thing to Charlie.

So I took a deep drag, the weed crackling as it burned and thick smoke filling my lungs. I held it in, thinking that now I could hold it as long as I wanted, no longer really needing oxygen. Within seconds I felt that familiar haze overcoming me – I wanted to erase all anxiety, worried thoughts, even dull my thirst and the accompanying anger that constantly brewed at the back of my mind. Wanted it all gone.

I exhaled, feeling dizzy as I blew out a healthy lungful of sweet smoke, and I let my head fall onto Peter's shoulder. "I forgot how much I love weed." I announced, feeling a ridiculous expression spread across my face – an uneasy, vicious grin. Not me, and yet too true.

I held the joint out to Jasper, but Peter plucked it out of my hand and took a toke of his own. After he exhaled, he looked at the joint thoughtfully. "Tastes just like the stuff we jacked from those Manson-wannabes. Hopefully less acid laced in this shit."

With a laugh, Jasper replied, "Probably is the same green! I stashed the rest here before I went home to the Cullens. Didn't want them to lecture me for it."

Was I hearing that right? Acid, probably not the best for a newborn vampire, but shit. No reason to say no to drugs, now. I itched to have the joint back in my hand. "Yeah, since when do you smoke, Jasper? I never would've pictured you as a stoner."

"Hell, I was smoking before you were even born." _Obviously_, I thought. "Before your great-grandparents were born, too, I reckon. Started smoking ditch weed when I joined up with the Confederate Army."

"Dang, you're old." I teased.

"You're not wrong." Jasper said ruefully, taking the joint from Peter and tapping off the ashes. "Nice red eyes, by the way. Never thought you'd stray from the Cullens' diet once you were changed."

At Jasper's mention of my most recent hunt, I remember the intoxicating blood and pleasure that followed. Peter rubbed a hand over my lower back, no doubt remembering the same things. To Jasper I replied, "Yeah, well, I'm not a Cullen, am I? Let's just say… I'm exploring my options."

And that was when I felt my first twinge of guilt. I couldn't pinpoint where it came from… I knew we hadn't fed on anyone innocent. I knew I wasn't betraying the Cullens – I had no obligation to them. Maybe I should have nurtured that guilt, let it grow into a force so powerful it could keep me away from human blood (I knew I should, and I ignored that horrified whispering voice inside: _murderer, monster, I need more_). Instead, I took another hit off the joint, and leaned into Peter. Jasper shot me a knowing look, but he pushed out a wave understanding at the same time.

Peter threw a comforting arm around my shoulders. "You know, when you think about it, all of us are startin' new lives. I finally got that bitch Maria off my back. Jasper, you're on your own away from Alice for the first time in sixty years. And Bella, you've got the most freedom of all – you can do whatever you want with your new life." Was my life my own, though? My thoughts? Everything, mind and body and sensations – was different now, and I knew it. My fingers twitched, bones cracking.

"We all can." I dazedly looked both Peter and Jasper in the eye. "Right? We're all basically started out on a blank slate." I looked closely at the burning cherry on the joint in my hand, realizing now that the fire in my hand was one of the only things that could kill me now.

The last few days pounded at my memory, filling my subconscious – blood, ecstasy, anxiety – and I knew nothing in my life would ever be the same. Obviously. I'd spent the last four years running, burying myself in alcohol, weed, cigarettes, anything to make me forget. Anything to dull my mind, to make me not care that I had nothing, that my life was shit.

I felt the edges of something, here, on the creaking old porch with two men (_monsters_, just like me) I barely knew – and even then, I felt as though I was eighteen again, terrified and alone in a strange city.

This time, though, this time: no end would come. I couldn't drown myself in drugs and liquor, sex or pain and wait until I died, violent, alone. No end would come.

I'd told Peter and Jasper (and whispered, silently, the same to myself) that we all had new lives, blank slates, wasn't it _wonderful_ and _freeing_? But the twisting in my gut betrayed me, to Jasper at least (the only one to understand, to connect, but not the one to light me through and through).

My human life was over, but that didn't mean I should give up, or give in. I'd lost so much – my home, my parents, all of my friends, in Phoenix and in Forks. I wasn't alone now, though.

I had Peter now – somehow and for some reason we sparked. He drove me crazy, with his touch and his eyes, and yet his presence calmed me. Despite my chaotic mind, I felt safe and secure with Peter's arm around my shoulders. We'd never even talked about what was going on between us, not really. For some reason… I wasn't worried. Not in any rush.

I leaned up against Peter, then finally tuned back into the conversation. He and Jasper were going on about cars – apparently Peter's car, the '67 Nova, had never been on a decent road trip.

"So then let's take it on a road trip." I proposed.

"Where to?"

I hesitated, thinking of what the things I'd always told myself I would do before I died. I'd always wanted to travel, go to college, do crazy shit and have wild adventures. Climb a mountain, go on a safari, write a book.

However, only one regret from my human life really stood out in my mind – my parents. I hadn't seen either my mom or Charlie in years. "Forks." I grinned wryly at Peter and Jasper. "I want to see my dad. Just so I know… what he's up to, I guess. It might be a tad tricky, though, considering I was pretty much banished from there by the Quileute tribe."

"Who?"

Oh yeah – I remembered Peter probably had never heard of the tribe. "Local Native American tribe… friends of my family. Some of their young guys are shapeshifters – kind of like werewolves, but not just during the full moon. They protected me after the Cullens left and Victoria was still after me… but when they couldn't take her they kicked me out to save themselves."

Peter clapped his hands together. "Sounds like a bunch of little assholes need someone to teach them a lesson."

I laughed. "Thanks, but no. I'd rather not have to see any of them, if I don't have to. Although I would like to see my old friend Jacob freak out when he sees me now."

I felt like a liar as soon as I said it – no way in hell did I want to see Jacob, the traitor. Sure, I could appreciate why he treated me the way he did, exiling me, basically, from my own home. Throwing me out to die alone.

Literally.

He'd been my friend for almost my entire life. We'd met as children, forced together to play on the beach, in the tidepools, by our fathers. Most importantly… he'd been the only ray of sunshine in my life after Edward left. He'd made it his mission to snap me out of my melancholic funk, and later, he'd pledged his Pack to protect me from Maria.

So I planned to avoid Jacob, and the Quileute land as a whole. We'd get to go on a road trip, Peter and Jasper and I, and I'd maybe get some closure with my dad.

Feeling undoubtedly more optimistic, I leaned back in my seat. The sky was clear, with sharp, bright stars laid out against deep black. I shifted into a deck chair and pulled Peter into the one next to me. I slung my legs over his lap and leaned back to get a better view of the sky.

Looking up at the stars, I reached back to the Astronomy class I'd taken back in Phoenix. I remembered being entranced by the stories behind the constellations and marveling with the innocence of a fifteen-year-old at the significance of seeing the dying light of stars from millions of miles away.

Taking the weed and a rolling paper from the table between my chair and Jasper's, I rolled us another joint. My new vampire-quick fingers rolled a perfect joint in seconds – a feat I'd never before been able to accomplish. All I'd ever been able to do before was squishy, loose joints that were barely smokeable.

"What'll we do after finding my mom, then? What the plan after that? What have you always wanted to do, but couldn't?" I asked, curious to hear Peter's response, feeling right then the enormity of everything I didn't know about him.

He and Jasper sat in contemplative silence for a few moments. Peter rubbed a thumb over my knee, his hand warm against my skin. "I have no idea… I've been on the run for decades, never wanted to hope too much for anything more."

Well if that wasn't just the saddest thing ever. I'd always seen Peter as this tough guy, all strong and manly and hot. Damned if he wasn't useful in a fight, and he was plenty interesting. Just thinking about all he'd seen and lived through in his decades of vamping around made my mind fuzz over.

But once upon a time he'd been human, too, no doubt with hopes and dreams of his own. He deserved to re-discover those things… and I would totally use this road trip to help him do it.

…

We left first thing in the morning. Jasper left to hunt, leaving Peter and I to haphazardly gather supplies. I packed my bag with some clothes, my camera, and a notebook. If we were going to be living out our dreams, I was determined to live up to the stereotypical literary romance of a last-minute road trip and document the entire thing. It felt weird to not pack any snacks, which just threw my mind to the next hunt…

A little antsy, I was relieved when Jasper returned and we finally got on the road. Sunrise peeked over the horizon when we pulled out onto the highway. Peter and Jasper argued good-naturedly over which of their old tapes to listen to first, and I smiled as my hand out the window cut through the warm morning air.

…

_A/N: Sorry this took so long! Lost my motivation for a while there… I almost abandoned this story but then I had a change of heart :-) Lyrics at the top are from Johhny Cash's God's Gonna Cut You Down. Anyway, please leave a review & let me know what you think!)_


	12. Chapter 12

12.

_He who makes a beast of himself gets rid of the pain of being a man_.

– _Samuel Johnson_

…

Bella

…

On the road, I couldn't tear my eyes from the endless scenery, fascinating to watch through my new eyes. Sunlight reflected sharply off metal mailboxes, buzzards circled over a pile of roadkill, and rows of birds perched on power lines above.

Peter asked me questions about my past as we drove, he and I in the front seat, Jasper lying in the back crosswise. Jasper focused on the notebook in his lap. I tried and failed to make out his scrawled writing through my side mirror, curious.

I told Peter about how I hadn't seen my dad in three years, and all I left was a note; and he told me how little he remembered from his human life, how all he remembered was blood and Maria's never-ending nightmare.

My human memories felt like dreams, like how everything looks kind of underwater and deranged when you're all fucked up (like I'd seen those terrible nights last year at my neighbor's apartment, with my bottles of pills and liquor) but the emotions churning in my chest were sharply real. Guilt, dread, and loving nostalgia.

Peter asked about my life, how I'd ended up on that street with him the first time we'd met. I finally put into words everything I'd kept to myself since my exile from Forks. The whole time, I'd had no one to talk to, be honest with, who wouldn't think I was completely fucking crazy with my ridiculous story of vegetarian vampires and shape-shifting Native Americans.

I felt like I could finally exhale the breath I'd been holding for years – leaving Forks, then arriving alone in a new city, terrified and powerless – but finally now maybe I'd found my place. Being with Peter felt effortless and natural.

After a few hours of passing desert scenery, scratchy radio music, and effortless conversation, my thirst began to grow, the tickling flames in my throat becoming too much.

"I think I should hunt soon…" I murmured to Peter, who nodded and rubbed a palm over his jaw, thinking. His red eyes were bright, excited as he looked over at me.

"I have a few ideas."

As the prospect of blood, hot and sweet and _human_, overtook my mind, Peter finally pulled the car off the road into the parking lot of a run-down building. A neon sign out front screamed "The Landing Strip."

"Strip club?' I asked with an incredulous laugh.

"Ever been before?" Peter only grinned mischievously.

"No!" My voice was indignant, but I was kind of curious… I'd never been inside a strip club before. Not that I'd ever really wanted to. When I'd first left Forks, I'd wondered how I would make money, where to find a job. I knew I was young and pretty enough to strip… but my general disgust for the profession and my ever-present clumsiness led me to nix that idea pretty quickly. Thank God it had never come to that.

I followed Jasper and Peter into the darkened club. With peeling paint and dingy floors, the club was a complete dive.

The room was noisy with pounding pop and rap music in time with the flashing lights, and the men's shouts, taunts, catcalls. Too many leering eyes followed me as I took a seat at the bar next to Peter and Jasper. The two of them turned toward the stage, to the women contorting themselves around mirrored poles, but I could see Peter's eyes scanning the crowd.

The crowded room smelled like baby powder, sweat, and stale beer – repulsive, if not for the pervasive aroma of blood, pumping away in the graceful, naked women, twirling, stretching, crawling, and in the men grouped around the stage in low chairs, lust in their eyes.

I watched the women dancing, the flashing lights illuminating their curves, fake boobs and flat stomachs. They writhed to the beat of the music, and as I watched, thirst and desire sparked through me and my mind refocused. I looked around, noticing a group of guys hassling a cocktail waitress across the room, grabbing her ass and leering. A dirty-looking blond guy noticed me staring and gave me a smirking nod.

My throat burned as I breathed in all the scents… blood, hot and tangy with alcohol and sometimes a chemical edge. Like a predator, a plan rose up in my mind. "So if we can still get high… can we still get drunk?" I laughed at both Peter and Jasper's excited faces – guess we can.

"You bet!" Peter affirmed, folding his arms across his chest. "Takes a helluva lot a liquor, but it can be done."

"Like how much?"

"Order us a bottle."

I grinned and leaned toward the bar, looking for the bartender. A girl in lingerie clattered over in mile-high heels. I ordered a bottle of whiskey and three glasses, and Peter threw down a handful of twenties.

After pouring them out, a toast: "To new beginnings?" The glasses clinked together, then the liquor burned and fumed down my throat. Ugh. Still disgusting.

Half the bottle later, my lips were started to feel pleasantly numb, when some of the obnoxious guys came up to the bar for drinks. I could hear them commenting on my 'fine ass' and 'DSLs' – they were totally right, but come on. Peter and Jasper just eyed them warily. One of them, the blond guy, shouted over the stripper music: "what up, slut? Why ain't you up on stage?"

I smirked. He was totally asking for trouble. "What?" Feigning stupid innocence, I adopted a vacant bimbo look.

"Damn, bitch –" before he had the misfortune to finish that thought, Peter stood, grabbed the dude by the throat, and pushed him violently away. His pack of tanned and muscly friends caught him, and looked to retaliate, but thought better of it when they saw Peter and Jasper's intimidating stance.

I gave Peter a quick kiss and a smile then sauntered away slowly, trying to harness my feminine wiles and look alluring for once. Past the group of asshole guys, I strutted toward a darkened hallway in the back corner of the club, turned a corner and went through a back exit to the back of the building. I heard a heartbeat behind me, and the blond guy who'd nodded at me before followed out the door. I breathed in deeply as he stepped outside.

He gave me a nod and lit up a cigarette. I adopted a smokin' seductive look (I hoped) and asked to bum one. He held out a cigarette, but then snatched it back when I reached out. He laughed then stepped closer and pulled it back again, shaking his head at my feigned clumsiness.

I let him crowd me back against the wall. He put his hand to my chest, then slid it down to cup my ass. I pushed him away slightly. "What the hell!"

But then he slapped me across the face and said, "bitch, shut the fuck up. You know you want it."

He pushed his body against me, his belt buckle sharp against my stomach, and my alarms went off – too close. Angry and fearful, I pulled him forward, bringing his neck to my mouth. His skin was salty with sweat and chap cologne – an irritation around the sweet blood as I bit down.

The guy stumbled into me, only struggling weakly, but I barely noticed – because oh god, _satisfaction_, and I would never, ever get enough.

My entire body tingled, my energy grew, and I felt dazed as I soon felt the guy's heart slow, stutter, and stop. Without another thought, I dropped him and he crumpled to the ground. I leaned back against the brick wall of the club, still reeling from the blood high – dizzy and exhilarated and confused – when Peter stepped out from the building.

Intoxicating: as Peter stepped closer, I saw his eyes lingering on my mouth. I saw us as if from a distance, but the sensations were intensely real.

His hand at the back of my neck, he leaned forward and licked a drop of blood from my lip, then forcefully kissed me.

With a groan, I bit down on his lower lip, and loved his reaction – he growled, trapping me against the wall, his knee between my legs. His mouth moved to my neck, and my eyes fell open, landing on the dead by of the man I'd just killed – his eyes open starkly, skin pale under the neon lights from the front of the parking lot.

He looked decisively dead in his ungainly sprawl, half-propped up against the wall, and a chill tickled its way up my spine. I stiffened, and Peter pulled away, following my perturbed stare. "Oh yeah… we should probably deal with him."

I swallowed hard, feeling sick. "He attacked me… when he followed me out here. Hit me in the face." My voice was hoarse. "But he – if I hadn't come out here, he…"

Peter interrupted me. "Bella, don't…you know he would've found some other girl and went after her. And she wouldn't have been able to fight back like you. Think you're the first girl he's fucked with?"

I closed my eyes, shutting out the bloody scene that still smelled so good, and rubbed a hand over my face. "I don't – I don't know what I'm doing here, Peter." My breath hitched in my chest, and I wondered what the hell was going on with me, why suddenly now this shit bothered me. My first time drinking human blood had been fine – amazing, even. This time, maybe it was the alcohol, or our trip to Forks… maybe my conscience was finally catching up to me.

Peter just folded me into a hug, resting his chin on top of my head. I leaned a cheek on the soft flannel of his shirt and breathed in his deep scent of sandalwood and summer rain, searching for equilibrium.

He rubbed a comforting hand over my back. "Everything's shit side up right now, sweetheart, I know." I snorted, tightening my arms around his waist. "But hey, at least we have plenty of time to figure this out."

I laughed weakly and began to follow him inside, but then something compelled me to run back over and grab the guy's pack of cigarettes that lay next to his body. Peter didn't ask why, and I wouldn't have had an answer.

When we walked back into the dark club, Jasper still sat at the bar, looking mildly disgusted as he stared at the strippers.

"Thank God," he proclaimed in relief as we left. I grabbed the bottle of whiskey on the way out, not quite ready to fully deal with my reality yet. Somehow I felt wired and weary, anxiety twisting in my stomach.

The outside air of the parking lot felt cool and free when we left the strip club. As we climbed back into the Peter's old car, I took a long swig off my bottle, savoring the harsh taste of the whiskey after such tasty human blood. The chill still hadn't faded from my spine, and my unease didn't fade with the liquor as I had hoped. I couldn't shake it… that awful feeling. How awkward and ugly and wrong that guy (my second victim…) had looked, dead on the concrete.

He was just a perverted asshole – he'd attacked me first. And I was a vampire now, so.

I sighed deeply, slouching in the bench seat and staring out the open window at the sky passing by. I dug out a cigarette from the scavenged pack and lit it using a pack of matches shoved into the cig pack. Smoking the guy's cigs appalled me, but I felt like I had to smoke them. The same cold guilt had propelled me take them, keep them from going to waste.

Reaching forward from the back seat, Jasper fiddled with the radio, eventually settling on a classic country station, landing on an old Neil Young song: "Out of the blue, and into the black..."

Reminded me of my dad. He'd always played old country and rock music in his garage as he puttered around with his fishing gear. Growing up, it had been a relief from the weird experimental music my mom loved.

Right then, remembering my childhood, I felt about a million years old – I'd been through so much since I'd first met Edward Cullen when I was 17.

I was weary as hell by now, and I barely knew which way was up anymore.

…

_(A/N: Thanks again to all my readers & reviewers… you are all awesome. This took forever, I know! Sadly my laptop died and I had to buy a new computer. I stole one of Peter's lines from Sons of Anarchy - love that show. Also thanks to petersgirl2011… you're so sweet!)_


	13. Chapter 13

_(Disclaimer… Twilight is not even close to being mine.)_

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13.

"The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong at the broken places. But those that will not break it kills." – Ernest Hemingway

…

Bella

…

Forks: I expected it to feel like coming home, but I barely recognized it. The air here was so dense – wet with humidity. The forest-lined streets and run-down buildings were only vaguely familiar. Everything was different, just slightly off. When we arrived, I expected something to happen (an alarm? an ambush?), but nothing came.

In the dead of night, we coasted down the main street in the small, dreary town, passing the high school, the Newtons' store, and plenty of empty storefronts.

I anxiously considered whether I'd be safe around my dad… what if I lost control? Killed him? My selfish mind didn't even want to consider the possibility. Moment by moment, I analyzed my reactions to humans since I'd been changed.

My first hunt after draining some animals with Jasper: Peter had taken me to the ghetto. I remembered very clearly the moments before I gave in and bit him. The taste of the smoggy city air, the sneer on my victim's face, and Peter's soft kiss on my neck. I'd been in a trance almost, but I'd known exactly when to let myself kill him.

And my second hunt… was something else entirely. _I_ had been something else entirely. Looking back, it'd been like I was in a dream. Being attacked and changed, becoming a vampire, and drinking blood felt just like TV, like one of those bad CW shows with all the magic and vampires and beautiful people. But when I saw the dead body of the guy I'd killed outside of that strip club, me being a vampire was way too real.

Shit. This introspection really wasn't going to help me right now. I decided to follow my instincts – everything in me told me I wouldn't hurt my dad.

And as for the wolves? If I had my way, I'd never have to deal with them again. The wolves left a bitter impression on me, and I was all for closure, but I'd rather avoid whatever awkward conversation we'd have. Me returning as a vampire after Jacob and the Pack had basically sentenced me to death-by-vampire by throwing me out of Forks… too awkward for my tastes.

I wasn't going to fade into the background and just hope no one brought up what happened if we met up with the wolves, though – I was done being so weak-willed, that's for damn sure. So, as we reached Charlie's neighborhood, I said to Peter and Jasper, "If we see the pack, the Quileute wolves I mean, let me deal with? And just don't… don't hurt them, okay?" Still just boys in my mind.

Peter looked over at me, and then his face shifted when he took in my frazzled state. His lifted his arm for me to curl into him. I turned my face into his neck, breathed in his deep and soothing scent, and whispered a kiss to the faint scars on the skin there. My mind calmed with every second of touching Peter and breathing him in.

Jasper, as an empath, had nothing on Peter's influence on me and the way he helped me with my mood swings from being a newborn and all my recent trauma. I hoped, maybe irrationally, that Peter wasn't like this with all the newborns he'd raised over the years…

In a few short minutes, I was walking up to the front of my dad's house alone, having promised to meet Peter and Jasper at the Cullen house after I left my dad. I stood outside on the sidewalk, frozen in uncertainty, as I listened to the sounds from inside the house: SportsCenter coming from the living room, the humming refrigerator, the occasional rustle and Charlie's blood, pumping through his veins clear as day.

I waited until his breathing had deepened and then snuck in, hoping he'd be asleep. My plan: wake him up, convince him he was dreaming, and somehow give him… closure. I hoped.

When I walked into the living room of that house that threw me back several years in the past, I barely recognized my dad. Charlie looked haggard as hell, slumped on the couch in front of the TV, surrounded by empty beer cans and the TV announcer's voice. His once-bright eyes drooped with drunken fatigue; he was in a worse state than I'd ever seen him. Guilt clenched in my stomach. I knew for sure that I'd helped do this to him by disappearing like I had.

I'd left because Jacob had forced me to – but he was right. I was a danger magnet. If I'd stayed around, Victoria would have kept coming for me and killed anyone who tried to stop her, the entire wolf pack if she'd had to. It hadn't been Victoria who killed me, but even so, I hadn't even made it to my twenty-first birthday.

I could smell Charlie's blood – bittersweet and strangely familiar, like me, but heavily diluted with alcohol. I sat on the couch next and shook him lightly by the shoulder. As I suspected, he barely responded. He grunted, forming half-words, then opened his bleary eyes a creak. His gaze was glassy and unfocused.

"Dad," I nudged him. "Charlie."

He shook his head slightly, then slurred, "Bella… s'that you?"

"Yeah, Dad, it's me." I paused and took a deep breath. "Look, I'm not really here right now – and I only have a minute. I just want you to know that… I'm okay. It's…" Now that I was finally here, sitting next to Charlie, I felt my conviction leave me. Words eluded me, catching flustered in my throat.

"Dad, I'm sorry. I left, but I had to. It wasn't safe for me in Forks anymore. It wasn't your fault, it was mine. And… you don't have to worry about me anymore."

"What? Bells, what are you…?" Charlie interrupted, struggling against the arm of the couch to sit upright.

"I'm dead." I blurted, eyes wide, and then prepared to lie. "I was attacked. It was random – wrong place, wrong time. You need to let it go. Let me go. I'm really okay now, and I want you to be, too." I sighed and clenched my hands on my jean-covered thighs.

"I'm sorry, Bells." My dad sighed and his sad eyes drooped shut. As he fell back into a drunken sleep, his face relaxed. The deep lines on his face smoothed, and his mouth lifted slightly from its sad frown.

It wasn't much, but I hoped I'd helped him… that he would let me go and take back his own life. Charlie began to snore, and I fondly pulled a blanket from the back of the couch and covered him, hoping he'd awake with some measure of peace.

I left my dad and ventured upstairs, wanting to see if any of my old things were still in my room. When I pushed open the door, I wasn't surprised to see it much same as I'd left it. The air was stale and dusty, and I was plenty grossed out as I wondered if any of my dirty clothes had been crunched together on my floor for years.

Thankfully, it looked like Charlie or someone had cleaned up a little, but the room was largely the same as I'd left it. I felt guilty for sure knowing that Charlie had kept up hope all these years that I was okay and might come home.

I rummaged through my old closet, finding an empty shoulder tote, a shoebox of old pictures and memories I'd left behind, and some of the clothes I'd missed. As a newborn vampire, I had only the vaguest memories of human life – broad strokes of people, places, events, and few details. Here I was, though, with those lost details in my hands.

Shoving everything in the tote and pulling a soft hooded sweatshirt over my head, I walked back to the door and took one last look back at the room, pausing with one hand on the doorknob. I looked over all my old belongings – my crusty old computer, my bookshelves with all the books I'd loved growing up, the purple comforter on the bed.

Seeing all this, I almost wished I could go back to my life just before I met Edward Cullen, before I'd been corrupted. Before I'd started down the past that would ultimately lead to my death… but would also lead me to Peter. I still didn't know for sure what was going on between Peter and I; we'd never even talked about our relationship, or whatever it was we're doing.

But the way he made me feel… electrified and yet completely safe. I'd felt a curious pull toward him since I'd first seen him, that time he saved me on the street from those crazed vamps.

But then I remembered Peter. I left the room with a smile, and then walked out of Charlie's life for the last time.

My momentarily uplifted spirits had fallen once again by the time I'd left the house. Next on my to-do list: avoid the Quileute wolves on my way back to the Cullen house.

But as I ran, I could only watch as if from an internal distance, as my emotions raged – shame, regret, resignation, and yet _hope_ – Peter's face welcomed me in my vision of the future. Back to the Cullens' house, back to Peter, who somehow knew, always _knew_.

I didn't know what I expected, working myself all up into an emotional wreck – I knew I wanted comfort, normalcy, and whatever balm that just seeing Peter instantly covered me with.

I ran through the endless forest, as the trees dripped condensation and the mosquitoes buzzed, until I broke through the brush to the Cullen property. A disgusting scent dominated - Peter and Jasper's scents fell weak underneath the overpowering smell of… wet dog and shit. I had a flash of a memory as my nose wrinkled in disgust. I remembered Jacob arguing with me that vampires smell awful to the wolves, sickly sweet, and that the wolves smelled just as bad to vampires…

My first sight of Peter and Jasper was of Jasper's back; he crouched in front of Peter's slumped figure, leaning weakly on the foot of the porch stairs. My steps faltered with surprise, and my heart dropped. What the hell happened?

…

_(A/N: Yeah, I know this was really short… oh well. Only a couples more chapters to go!)_


	14. Chapter 14

14.

…

When I saw the state Peter and Jasper were in, I freaked. I rushed to Peter's side, almost shoving Jasper out of the way.

He was hurt – his venom listened in the hazy sunlight, and his normally sparkly skin looked duller than usual. I settled a hand on the back of his neck, and he leaned slightly into my touch.

"What happened? Are you okay?" I asked.

Peer grimaced and tried to sit up straight, his dark hair falling messily across his forehead. "Got into a fight with the wolves," he admitted.

"What, they attacked you here?"

"No, a couple miles west of here."

The only thing west of the Cullen property was the Quileute reservation. My temper flared. "You went to fight them behind my back and attacked them? What the hell?"

"Bella, no – " Peter pleaded, contrite yet defensive.

I leaned back from him and crossed my arms. "Don't lie to me. You went behind my back."

I'd almost forgotten about Jasper by the time he interrupted, trying to defend Peter. "Listen, Bella, we needed to find out if the treaty is still valid." I felt a synthetic calm prickling at my skin, which only pissed me off even more.

"Excuse me, I'll be angry if I want to." I shot Jasper a dirty look, feeling irrational even as I did so, and then turned back to Peter. His pained eyes reminded me that he was hurt, and I felt an echoing pain in my chest. What was I doing?

Confused, angry, and ashamed of my freak-out, I demanded, "Answer my questions. Did you hurt them? The wolves?"

Peter burst out, "Why do you still care? What they did to you… They sent you out to fucking die, Bella!"

I felt his words like a slap to the face, but he was right. "Thank you for reminding me of my awful life." I said softly and bitterly, before turning and storming off.

I followed the wet dog and excrement smell back into the forest, stewing as I went. The stinky trail led me toward La Push. I tried to crash through the undergrowth as loudly as possible, hoping to draw out the wolves…. I knew what Peter and Jasper were capable of, and I needed to see for myself that Jacob and the others weren't hurt too badly.

Soon enough I came across Jacob, sitting on the ground and leaning his back against a tree. Bruises and gashes littered his face and exposed chest. A strange pride welled up within me, knowing that Peter had hurt Jacob, and a perverse sense of vindication for what Jacob had done to me.

Even though Jake looked like he had been waiting for me, shock and surprise crossed his face when he saw me. We were seeing each other for the first time in years, and for the first time since I'd died.

I couldn't suppress a smile, and my eyes made their own appreciative sweep of Jacob's body. He really had grown up… muscly and lean and dark but still with a total baby face.

"Bella…" He trailed off before rushing forward and hugging me. He felt burning hot and smelled awful. I was sure his skin would leave singes where his arms wrapped around me shoulders. Almost as soon as his arms closed around me, he flinched and shoved me away.

"Vampire!" Laced with horror and accusation, his tone fell to despair. "…I really did kill you."

I couldn't really argue. "I was attacked a couple weeks ago. Peter and Jasper saved me."

Jacob barely reacted, just gave a little shudder. I knew that he and I weren't going to ever be friends again; we couldn't be. My body instinctively shied away from him, and he found me as repulsive as he always had found the Cullens. Mortal enemies and all that.

But most of all… he'd made it perfectly clear what he thought of me when he'd kicked me out of Forks. I'd never had any reason to expect him to want to see me now.

"Shit," I muttered, looking at the ground and suddenly not wanting to do this anymore. I'd rather be back with Peter, apologizing profusely for acting like a righteous bitch, no matter how right or wrong I'd been, and even with Jasper, who'd only every supported and protected me, except when he was trying to kill me.

So I squared my shoulders and plowed ahead, summoning my spirit. "I'm not dead, Jacob; it's okay." And why was I comforting him when it was my life, not his, that had been irrevocably changed after years of torment? "I'm just… not human."

Jacob's mask of disgust never slipped from his face. He only stood a couple feet away, looking appalled and a little guilty. Still, he had been my best friend. "Jake, I'm still me." I sighed, not feeling up to defending myself to someone who'd treated me so badly. "And I missed you." My voice cracked, and I looked away, embarrassed.

"Shit, I'm sorry, Bells. Come here." He tried to hug me, but I instinctively flinched away from his hot touch.

"Sorry." I took a step back, and reminded myself why I was there. "Jake, what happened? I mean, with Peter and Jasper today."

Jacob tensed. "The human drinker and the Cullen? And hey, why are your eyes red, too?" He asked suspiciously.

"All newborns have eyes like this," I hedged, "and don't change the subject. What the hell happened? Are you guys okay?"

"Why are you so worried? And why is that leech's scent all over you?"

I bristled and shot him a mean look. "None of your business. And answer my questions!"

"Okay, fine. Pushy." And he was back to acting like a fifteen year old. "The empath –"

"Jasper." I interjected firmly.

He ignored me. "- wanted to confirm the treaty was still on. Some of the pack didn't take too kindly to them coming back here, and your human drinker got a little mouthy at how we'd treated you." Now, Jake had the grace to look guilty, and he turned his sad eyes up to me. "Bella, you know I didn't mean to – I had to protect my tribe."

I knew he was talking about hurting Peter and also about forcing me to leave Forks, all on my own. He looked at me for forgiveness, but I could only shift uncomfortably, crunching the twigs and dry leaves beneath my feet. I had no idea how to forgive him, or even if I wanted to.

"Did it work? Making me leave, I mean. Did Victoria leave La Push alone?" All along, I'd been expecting Victoria to catch up with me after I'd fled south. She never had found me, but for better or worse, Peter had.

Jacob sighed, the sadness on his face looking out of place. "Victoria never left. She was convinced we were still hiding you in La Push."

"Oh no…" I breathed in dread.

Clearing his throat, Jacob continued. "The leech killed Seth and Leah's mother – Sue Clearwater. Tried to get them to tell her where you were hiding… but nobody knew where you'd gone."

Oh God. And poor Seth and Leah, especially Leah, losing Sam and her mom.

I wondered if they would have given me up if they'd known where I gone after leaving Forks. And I wondered if I would've blamed them if they had.

I asked what happened to Victoria, and Jacob smiled grimly. "Leah killed her."

I felt relieved and sickened, finally having closure, knowing for sure that Victoria was no longer a threat. The sick feeling came from knowing Victoria had slaughtered two kids' mother just trying to find _me_. A mate for a mate, even though only Peter's face went through my mind when I heard the word _mate_, not Edward.

"How's Leah doing?" I finally asked. She'd been awfully unpleasant before, dealing with Sam leaving her for her cousin and then turning into basically a supernatural freak, and losing both her parents. Good lord.

Jacob choked out a laugh at my question. "How do you think?"

I had no idea what to say to him after that, all my words feeling vaguely inappropriate.

We walked away from each other for the last time in that forest, with so much held back, so many memories and regrets. More disappointment and unfulfilled expectations, but at least it was over.

Pushing through the forest back to the house, I took my steps slowly, giving myself time to think.

I remembered reading a book once, about a schizophrenic girl who felt haunted by moments, by paintings and memories and fictional worlds. Her regrets and hallucinations haunted her and followed her around like storm clouds.

I was beginning to feel like that girl. Snapshots of moments, faces and voices crowded in my mind – Seth, so young when Victoria had first attacked. Leah, such a vicious bitch from being hurt too many times. Now their mother Sue. I felt sick.

So I remembered the gruff determination my all-American dad had always shown, and that I hoped he could find in himself again, and told myself to toughen up.

Finally I could try to forget about my past, everything I had to go through from when Edward left me till I'd been attacked and changed… None of it really mattered anymore or had any relevance on my existence now.

I'd come to Forks for closure – for my father and for my past with Jacob. I was learning that life and death maybe don't work like that. Not so neat. Life isn't fair, doesn't make sense, and can _always_ get worse.

Life wasn't fair – like that was a big surprise. A lot of things didn't make sense, but some things, some people even, did. Like Peter. Being with him had happened so naturally, I'd never even questioned him. Even though, okay yeah, I hadn't been entirely sure he wasn't going to kill me when we'd first met.

I'd been pleasantly wrong.

….

_(A/N: So thanks everyone again for all the reviews and faves/alerts/whatever! I love you all. And yes this is another super long chapter… I figured something short now was better than having to wait! So. Let me know what you think!)_


	15. Chapter 15

"Long is the way, and hard, that out of hell leads up to light."

– Milton, _Paradise Lost_

_..._

15.

... 

When I got back to the house – the strangely foreign Cullen house, nothing felt nothing like home to me anymore – Peter and Jasper were both gone. I figured they'd probably left to hunt and would be back eventually… at least I hoped they'd be back. I couldn't help but feel faint whispers of my old insecurities and fears of ending up completely alone, considering how worn out I felt after only a few hours in Forks.

I don't know what I had expected, coming back here. Things had gone terribly after I'd left – I'd known that was likely, sure, but to see the wreckage was startling. My father's voice was clear in my mind, filling in the holes that had grown in my memories over the years I spent in New Mexico. I tried like hell not to think about what Seth and Leah had gone through, losing both their parents.

Trying to make myself stop thinking such unpleasant thoughts, I forced myself into action. Alone in the Cullen house, I felt like an intruder, I could smell Peter and Jasper's scents faintly throughout the rooms. Following traces of Peter's deep scent, I dragged my backpack upstairs to a guest room and into the bathroom with my nerves jangling.

I dropped my bag on the marble countertop in the bathroom and began to empty it out, but I froze as I caught my reflection in the huge mirror.

I was beautiful. For the first time ever, it seemed, I could aesthetically appreciate myself. I stared in awe, leaning forward to examine my appearance. Since I'd been changed, I'd hardly spared a thought to how I looked. I mean, yeah, I kind of looked like a wild mountain woman now, what with my long hair all crazy and tangled, but it looked… right. My eyes looked huge, lined with long, sweeping eyelashes, and my mouth was as bright red as my eyes. I puckered my lips, attempting a mock-seductive pose.

Hmm. Sure, I'd always known I was attractive. Even back in high school I'd fended off idiot after idiot trying to ask me out, but I'd never before felt actually beautiful. Satisfaction and excitement bubbled up within me.

Looking down, I saw the contents of my backpack scattered across the countertops out of my upended bag, a jumble of worn clothes and tangled accessories and mementos.

Taking inventory and looking around the clean, if a little dusty, room, I frowned slightly bitterly when I saw that the guest bathroom was fully stocked with bath products and towels. Esme, the perfect housewife, had always welcomed and provided well for her guests, though she'd had no problem abandoning me without a second thought when Edward and had told her to.

The shower was steamy and cleansing and felt absolutely amazing. The bath scents, expensive salon brands, filled the room with notes of vanilla, brown sugar, and coconut. All the luxuries made me feel more human, somehow, yet it felt like years since I'd been able to just enjoy a shower without some crazy stressful chaos going on.

Back in New Mexico, my showers occasionally ended with me collapsing onto the ground to catch my breath, depending on how hung over I was. Standing long enough to shower after days-long drinking and drug binges left me exhausted and breathless.

Now, though, I needed no rest, no oxygen, and I never lacked energy. I could feel every single grain of dirt, forest debris, even dust being washed off my skin.

I'd hoped Peter would be back by the time I'd finished my shower, but the house was as quiet as ever. I pulled on the jeans and shirt I'd grabbed from Charlie's house and wandered downstairs, then out the front door. Feeling at loose ends, I scribbled out a note on a pad of paper laid neatly in a corner on the kitchen counter.

_Peter,_

_Meet me in the forest. Please._

_Bella_

I dashed a quick heart next to my name, hoping to subconsciously push him toward following me. After running upstairs to throw some things into my bag: cigarettes, lighter, an old journal, I set off into the forest behind the house, heading toward an old scenic overlook Edward had once brought me to.

I had no doubt Peter would be able to find me by following my scent. Failing that…I remembered how easily I'd found him underground in those tunnels when he'd been taken. That strange instinctual pull led me right him. I had no doubt he could find me the same way, if he needed to.

I never had asked how exactly he'd found me when Maria had kidnapped and tortured me… by scent or that same indefinable pull. Either way, he'd been there when I needed him most, when I should have been nothing more than prey to him.

He'd become a constant in my life in the short term that I'd known him. Mere weeks. So much had changed, so much upheaval to bring me here, but he'd been with me.

I felt like he was almost too good to be true… like this couldn't really happen, what Peter and I had. It didn't make any sense.

Peter was the only man to ever really treat me with respect, not like an inferior (like Edward), and not just a piece of ass (everyone else, ever). He respected me, protected me, and never once pressured me for sex – we both knew there was no hurry. I knew we'd get there. I'd never wanted anything more.

Images, moments, and breaths of memories flashed constantly through my subconscious. All Peter.

Looking scruffy after walking with me through the desert. His dark hair blowing slightly in the wind as we sat next to that pond behind his house, his smile wide and his eyes twinkling. The folk music playing on the car stereo as the sun set off the sparkle of his skin, his red eyes bright as he laughed.

I strode through the forest and let myself daydream, since I figured it might be my last chance to do so with any real hope after how I'd treated him. I let myself consider what it would be like to really be with him, to let myself love him.

He wasn't perfect, sure; he was violent and untamed, but I could love him. I knew I was half-in love with him already.

And the most exciting, butterfly-inducing prospect? To finally sleep with him. To be his.

I eventually came upon the spot I'd been looking for, a rocky outcropping next to a deep ravine, with the ocean in the hazy distance. I sat at the edge, next to a huge tree, looking out over the beautiful greens and browns of the forest.

Any sense of time passing eluded me for a while, as I gave myself over to the serenity of the forest view. Wind swept around me, throwing my hair into disarray. To my ears, a cacophony of frogs, katydids and crickets arose from the forest.

Eventually, I heard footsteps crunching in the distance, coming slowly closer. My old anxiety and excitement rushed back, but I held tightly to my previous calm. That pull in my chest grew more forceful as I felt Peter come closer.

He sat down next to me on the rocky outcropping, stretching out his long legs casually and dangling them over the edge. I shifted my body to face him, crossing one leg underneath me and trying not to appear shy as I looked up at him.

Peter merely smiled down at me freely. I opened my mouth to apologize, but he cut me off.

"Look, there are some things you need to understand about me." His tone was forceful, but a hint of a twinkle brightened his eyes.

"I ain't a cheater. I won't lie to you or go behind your back on purpose. I will defend you, and I ain't gonna apologize for that. I know you're feeling crazy right now – everything's new and intense and terrifying. But your attitude's not gonna throw me. You actin' crazy won't put me off… just maybe turn me on." He grinned cheekily.

I let out a laugh and sagged against his side, relieved he was generally letting my craziness roll of his shoulders. He lifted his arm and pulled me closer. As he grinned down at me, I happily apologized. "I'm sorry. I really am… I was a huge bitch for no reason. And thanks for defending my honor. Much appreciated."

I hoped he would forgive me, but in lieu of answering me verbally, Peter lifted a hand to cup my jaw and kissed me firmly.

Whereas before Peter and I had always been rough and intense with each other, now his kisses were slow and deliberate, like he was teaching me a lesson. Teaching me that I could trust him.

His hands on me were purposeful, pulling me closer and finding those places that made me pulse with desire. He tugged me over to straddle his lap, and as he deepened the kiss, his tongue hot against mine, I instinctively ground down against him with a rough roll of my hips.

Peter groaned into the kiss, threaded his hand into my hair and tightened it into a loose fist at the back of my neck. "You know, you're the reason I've been getting so crazy lately," I teased.

"Oh, yeah? How so?" His voice came out hoarse.

I grinned down at him wickedly, shifting in his lap and pressing myself against him. "Having you there and not being able to have you? Way too much stress for me."

He only growled softly in response, and then pulled me back into a hot, open-mouthed kiss. Our touches became rougher, our motions more insistent, until Peter ended up on his back on the ground with his hands clutching at my ass. I went to undo the button on my pants, but at that moment, Peter stopped my hands.

"Wait. Not like this." He flipped us both, lifting me slightly to move us away from the edge of the cliff. I lay back on the blanket I'd spread out earlier and watched as Peter, looming above me, pulled his shirt up over his head in one graceful move. The sight of his flat stomach, broad chest and lean muscles working his shoulders shot a wave of heat between my legs.

Peter lowered himself over me and kissed me softly, tenderly, with a hand to my cheek. He trailed that hand down over my chest and across my stomach, where his name was scraped into my skin under the cotton of my shirt.

He hitched a hand under my shirt and tugged it upward. I leaned up and he whisked it over my head, throwing my hair everywhere, and it felt cool against my skin where it fell. He spread warm, wet kisses down my neck and lower, and flicked the button on my pants. A shiver of excitement shot through me as I helped kick off my jeans.

The night air felt cool on my bare legs, but I let Peter settle himself against me, his solid weight feeling so right, fitted against me.

Peter quickly overwhelmed all my senses as he kissed me, again and again, until I lost myself to his touch. His hands taught me love, grasping and skimming and stroking. I could only gasp out his name, and pull him closer to me. When I looked into his serious eyes, I saw in them reflected the unexplainable force I'd felt since knowing him.

The rush of sensations: Peter's lips on my neck, teeth scraping and biting my skin, the sharp rocks underneath my shoulder blades, and finally, _finally_, that exquisite fullness.

Afterward, I marveled at the quiet. In my mind only a few stray, blissful thoughts floated through – all the built-up emotional chaos from the past few weeks had disappeared.

As I lay across Peter's chest and he played idly with my hair, the calm atmosphere let my mind wander.

Reflecting on Peter and I, I knew that we could be good together; I could only imagine fun we could have, the love we could make. He'd call me on my crazy spells and snap me back to reality when I needed it.

In time, I'd learn how to live with my memories of the ruined life that had led me here: my parents' divorce, meeting Edward and being left by him, Victoria's attacks and the Quileute wolf pack's help, and then to the nightmare of Maria, and shortly afterward, my violent death.

If Peter could deal with my past and all that brought with it, I knew I could give him what he needed – someone to support him and help him learn to enjoy life finally away from Maria's harassment.

I didn't know how long this tenuous peace could last, but these short moments would be enough for now, enough for me to momentarily forget all the thirst and accompanying guilt, the terror and arousal of the hunt. 

… 

_(A/N: Something short for everyone. Not much more to go…)_


End file.
